


Undating

by followyourenergy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best friends Charlie and Cas, Business advisor!Cas, Caregiver!Cas, Caring for grandparent, Dean's POV, F/M, Fluff, Landscaper!Dean, M/M, Piano teacher!Cas, Sam and Dean own a business, Slow Build, Slow Burn, potter!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Dean was tired of dating. It was expensive and fake, and with a landscaping business to keep him busy, he just didn't have time or desire. The mysterious guy at the bar seemed to feel the same way, and when he came up with some outlandish ideas for unconventional dates he called un-dates, Dean couldn't help but be intrigued. Dean found himself volunteering for the tasks, and soon he was wrapped up in a situation he never expected -- while playing bingo, grocery shopping, and eating cheap burgers in a parking lot, he fell completely in love with a beautiful man who kept most people just out of reach of his true self. Would Dean be able to convince him that falling in love was worth facing his deepest fears?





	1. Chapter 1

The dude was intriguing.

Dean wasn’t a creep, but he couldn’t stop staring at the guy at the bar, who was sipping some kind of craft beer and focusing on a Macbook. Who the hell sits at a bar with a computer? Doesn’t the guy know he’s asking for trouble? He’s one spilled beer from frying his system. The condensation from the bottle kept wetting the guy’s fingers when he’d pick it up, and he had to keep drying his hand before he could type again. Drink, dry, type, repeat.

Tanned, calloused fingers snapped in his face. “What’re you looking at?”

“Nothin’,” he replied as he turned to Benny, his best friend and vice president of the company. Well, not yet, but he would be, someday, when the company was big enough. For now, he was one of the guys, albeit one of the guys who everyone acknowledged was in charge when Dean or his brother weren’t around.

“Spacey today, Winchester?” Adam joked as he dove into the nachos on the table.

“Yeah, just beat, I guess… hey, did you wash your hands before gettin’ into the nachos, man?” He noticed Adam’s hands were gray with dirt and stone dust.

“It’s ground in, man. I scrub but it stays like stink on shit.”

“Oh, that’s pretty, Adam, wanna write me a poem?” Adam shot him a sneer and dipped his chip into the salsa.

“No double dipping, either,” Dean warned as he stood up. “I’ll be right back. Gonna get another beer.”

“We have a waitress, you know,” Sam, his brother and future president of the company, reminded him.

“She’s not around. I’m thirsty now,” Dean griped. Actually, he didn’t really care at all about another beer. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and what he really wanted was to check out the dude at the bar. He’d only seen him from behind – dark suit, dark shoes, dark hair. Or maybe it was the dim light that made everything about the man look dark and mysterious. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the small windows near the ceiling, but it did little to light the room, and nothing to illuminate the man.

The guy was a study in contrasts – working in a place known for leisure, alone when everyone else had someone with them, dressed up when the dress code was casual. This bar was really more of a dive, more appropriate to working class guys like Dean, who weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Well, Dean probably couldn’t call himself a working class guy anymore, could he? He owned his business, made decent money, had a decent apartment. He could’ve purchased a house, maybe, but he lived by himself and didn’t want the upkeep, and didn’t want to worry about a mortgage if the business tanked, which was always in the back of his mind. But the real question was: why was the guy doing here? Dude was probably a creeper. Probably looked like a troll or a gargoyle or something. Maybe he was rejected at the nicer bars. Heh. Dean had to keep himself from smiling like an idiot at the picture in his head of a drooling, snaggle-toothed, leg-dragging mess.

Dean approached the bar and called out, “Balthazar, you smarmy bastard! Beer me!”

Balthazar, a thin blond with an English accent and an eye for mischief, glanced over from the other end of the bar, where he’d been drying glasses. “Nah, I’m good over here, thanks.”

“Do your job, would ya?”

“Nah, I’m bugging off today. Too nice outside.”

“You’re not even outside.”

“Yes, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

Dean shook his head as the smirking Brit made his way toward him. He pretended to watch him pour a fresh beer from the tap, but turned his eyes sideways toward Suit Dude. He couldn’t see much, but he didn’t want to look conspicuous, so he waited. He grabbed the frosty glass from the bartender, and as he turned to return to his table he snuck a glance. Suit Dude chose that moment to turn just to his left, and Dean missed seeing most of the man’s features – but he did have _really_ nice hands and a five o’clock shadow. Well, probably not a gargoyle. Still could be a troll with nice hands. Knowing he couldn’t just hang out without looking ridiculous, he started toward the table.

“Hey, grab me one while you’re up there!” he heard Sam call over the music piping from overhead.

“Jeez, Samantha, you couldn’t have mentioned that five minutes ago?” he complained but turned back toward Balthazar to order another. As he did so, he came face-to-face with Suit Dude, who had closed his computer and tucked it under his arm. He was on his way out. Dean was startled to have the man right there and he stopped suddenly, sloshing his beer onto his hand. The guy didn’t move. In the five seconds they stood there, Dean got a good look. Tall, dark and handsome seemed to fit Suit Dude. His hair looked finger-combed, his eyes were dark and a little tired, and the dark stubble accentuated his pink lips. Nope, definitely not a troll.

“Pardon me,” said Suit Dude as he nodded with a tiny smile and passed to Dean’s left. _Whoa_. _That_ _voice_. He imagined sap sliding down the bark of a maple tree – rough and smooth and earthy and sweet all at once. _Damn_. He shook off the brief meeting. He really didn’t have much time or hope for relationships or even quickies at this point, though others disagreed with him and constantly tried to set him up. No, he would let Suit Dude go on his merry way, and Dean would go on his. The guy would be like today’s spring breeze – he’d ruffle him a little, but would otherwise leave him unmoved and unchanged.

“Balth! Beer me!”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean saw Suit Dude three Fridays in a row – always nursing one beer in a bottle, always in a suit, always with that damn computer, never talking. He’d kind of looked forward to seeing him those other times, even though he wasn’t interested in anything but the view – and it was a very nice view. He’d even asked Balthazar about the guy and his strange work habit, just because he was curious, but he’d only gotten a shrug in response with a little smirk. He had scowled at the blond. Suit Dude was mysterious, and Dean loved a good mystery, that was all. Today, though, the only mystery he wanted to solve was which beer would make him forget this week. It had been a shitty one. Two jobs fell through, he’d had a disagreement with Sam, and worst of all, he wasted three hours of his life last night on a horrible date he hadn’t even wanted to go on but did to shut Benny up. She had been annoying and fake, and she had insisted on going to some pretentious restaurant where he could eat each course in one bite. When she wanted sex at the end of the date, he made some excuse about having to get up early the next day. He just couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t know why he bothered dating at all anymore, honestly. So, yeah, the week had been horrible.

Dean had been with his guys on those other Fridays, but today Dean was alone, thank God. He was in such a bad mood he could hardly stand being around himself, never mind his crew, who would inevitably ask him what crawled up his ass and died. He’d been on client calls that day instead, and that was enough of interacting with people and plastering on a smile for one day, thank you very much. Since he was the owner and all and since he’d had a week from hell, Dean decided he would cut out early and grab a beer before he hid in his apartment for the weekend. He abandoned the usual corner table and perched at the bar, leaving just a couple of stools between him and an attractive stranger – oh, it was Suit Dude. Apparently, Suit Dude thought he’d change it up, too – because he was wearing jeans and a fitted red t-shirt instead of the suit and because he was talking to Gabe, the owner of the bar. Dean listened quietly to their conversation as he sipped the beer Balthazar had poured for him.

“You can’t be a damn hermit all your life, you know,” Gabe said.

“The agreement was that I come here for four Fridays. I did.”

“That’s not following the spirit of the agreement, though.”

“I followed the letter of it.”

“I know you’re not that literal.”

“I am if it suits me.”

“Pssh,” Gabe said through his teeth as he slammed the man’s computer shut.

The man looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Feel better?”

“No!” Gabe whined. “Look, the deal was that you’d meet people.”

“No, the deal was that I’d sit at the bar and talk to people. No one has approached me, thus no talking.”

“You are a stubborn ass.”

“You already knew that.”

“Dude, you need a life that doesn’t involve working or… working.”

“I do more than work.”

“Yeah, yeah… I mean you need something that’s for you, not for work or Gram or your volunteer stuff. You need to meet someone.”

“I have leisure activities. I have friends. You make me sound like I never interact with anyone.”

“I mean you need to meet someone. You know, someone you could share your life with? Or hell, at least get off with?”

“How eloquent.”

“Shut it. Come on, you haven’t dated in what, a year?”

“I hardly see how that’s your concern.”

“Because I love you, dummy. I don’t want you to end up all alone. And the sexual frustration is pouring off you.”

“I hardly think so.”

“Work with me here.”

Suit Dude sighed and rolled his eyes. “Gabe, you know I don’t like one night stands. I don’t want to worry about going to some stranger’s house and being in some stranger’s bed, rolling around in the rancid sweat and sloughed-off skin cells of the various one nighters of my partner, all in an attempt to reach some sort of climax I can achieve by myself. I don’t want to worry about some STI or whether I stay or leave or any sort of awkward conversations or forced pleasantries. I want something real. I can’t be bothered with the rest.”

Dean nodded to himself in silent agreement. He tipped the bottle for another sip.

“Sloughed-off skin cells? Gross, dude.”

“It’s true.”

“Okaaay, well then, you’re not going to make any ‘deep connections’ unless you date people and _open_ _up_.”

The man folded his arms and rested them on the bar top. “Let me tell you something about dates, Gabriel. Dates are awkward, shallow affairs. They’re meant to get to know someone, but really they’re just a means to try to impress the other person and showcase a self that you can’t possibly be all of the time. How are my date and I getting to know each other if we’re putting on a show? If we’re talking only about superficial matters?” The man started gesturing exaggeratedly as if he was talking to a date. “‘Chartreuse is my favorite color. Why yes, I’m so interested in the gossip of your office even though gossip is petty and I know nothing about your office or the people there – please tell me more. I like piña coladas and long walks on the beach, oh let’s do that after this ridiculously-priced dinner I’m buying you at a place I’ve never heard of.’” He grunted as he finished with a scowl.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as the man continued to talk. This guy was reading Dean’s mind. Balthazar, hearing the conversation, sauntered over to listen.

“I’m just saying, Gabe, it’s nonsense. You spend all this time and all this money, for what? You know what I’d rather do? I’d rather go grocery shopping with someone. I’d rather help clean out their basement or debate paint colors. That’s how you get to know someone.”

“Those are the exact opposites of actual dates.”

The stranger wagged his finger at Gabe. “Exactly. That’s what I want. I want to go on… _un-dates_. I don’t want all the games and the pretending. I want to be myself, right from the start, and I want the other person to feel free to do the same. I want to get to know someone through the most mundane of circumstances, because if we can enjoy each other in those circumstances, then the romance will follow naturally. I’m tired of bullshit.”

“Amen,” Dean said out loud, without thinking, as he took another sip. Suit Dude, Gabe, and Balthazar turned toward him. Dean felt a little embarrassed at his unintentional outburst.

Suit Dude gestured toward Dean. “Thank you! See? You know what I’m talking about.”

Dean was pleased his comment wasn’t unwelcome, and his self-consciousness dissipated. “I do, and it makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

“Right? See, Gabe?” he gloated. “Makes a lot of sense.”

“You’re not helping, Dean,” Gabriel groused.

Dean shrugged. “Sorry, man, but I’ve had it with dating. Had one last night and it was awful. It was fake and weird and I paid over a hundred bucks for a painful dinner and was starving when I got home.”

The dark-haired man jumped in. “That’s what I mean. Why go there when you could go to, I don’t know… Sonic?”

Balthazar winced. “You don’t take a date to Sonic.”

“Why not?” Suit Dude challenged. “That’s it. It’s going on my list.”

“What list?” Gabe frowned.

The man opened his computer and started typing. “The list of un-dates I’m creating. This is a brilliant idea and I’m not letting it go.” He started a list titled “Un-date Ideas” and typed “Sonic” underneath the heading. “There. Also, grocery shopping and basement cleaning,” he said as he added them to the list. He looked up. “What else? I need ideas.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not helping you with your hare-brained idea.”

“Washing your car?” Dean piped up.

“Yes, that’s a good one. Thank you.” He added it and gave Gabriel a pointed look before returning his gaze to Dean. “What else?”

“Um… how about going to the gym?”

Suit Dude nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea, too. Nobody wants to be in grubby workout clothes on a date.” He typed it in. “Oh, how about going to play bingo?”

Dean laughed. “I can honestly say I’ve never thought about bringing a date to play bingo.”

The man smiled back at him, eyes twinkling in the dim light. “Then it’s perfect for the list.” He typed it in, then said, “Oh, I have to bring my cat to the groomer,” and typed some more.

“That is _definitely_ an un-date,” Dean agreed. “How about going to the DMV?”

“That’s just torture,” the man laughed, and Dean laughed and agreed with him.

“Yard work?” Dean suggested. “It’s my job, so I’d hate doing that on a date.”

The man hummed. “Hmm. Yes, manual labor is probably a turn-off for most people.” He added it to the list. “Okay, maybe I should leave a couple of blanks for other ideas later on.” He typed a bit more, then turned his attention back to the three men and showed them the list:

 

Un-date Ideas:

1\. Sonic

2\. Grocery shopping

3\. Cleaning the basement

4\. Washing vehicles

5\. Gym

6\. Bingo

7\. Groomer/shelter

8\. Yard work

9\. _____________ (partner’s choice)

10\. ____________ (my choice)

 

“Well, at least you’ll get some chores done,” Gabriel said sarcastically.

The man didn’t take the bait, returning with his own snarky comment. “Yes, it’s a win-win, really.” Dean smirked at Gabe’s exasperated expression.

“I think you need rules,” Dean commented. The man turned curiously toward him and raised his eyebrows, inviting Dean to continue.

“Like, I think each person pays for themselves. And no sex.”

Suit Dude nodded. “Agreed. Also, avoid stupid date questions.” Dean gave him a questioning look. “You know, like ‘What’s your favorite color?’ or ‘So tell me about yourself,’ the man explained. “Ask more meaningful questions.” Dean nodded his agreement to that, then added, “Come as you are. No dressing up.” The man agreed wholeheartedly. He wrote the new list and showed it to the men:

 

Un-date Rules:

1\. Partners pay for themselves

2\. No sex

3\. Meaningful talk, not typical stupid date drivel

4\. Come as you are – no dressing up, etc.

5\. Be yourself, no matter how you think you’ll be perceived by your partner

 

“The most important one,” Dean pointed to the last item on the list.

“Who the hell is going to agree to do this with you?” Balthazar asked the man. He shrugged.

“Someone who’s tired of the typical dating bull, I suppose. Someone who wants to try something different and isn’t afraid of a challenge. Someone who really wants to get to know me and wants someone to know them.”

“And how would you even bring this up to someone? ‘Hey, baby, you fancy cleaning my basement with me? We can grab horrible fast food after.’ Who would do that?” Balthazar continued. The man shrugged again.

“I’ll do it,” Dean said impulsively, surprising everyone including himself. Suit Dude turned to him, catching his eyes and holding them steadily. He tilted his head and a hint of a smile crossed his face. Dean started to question himself. “I mean, if you’re, you know, into dudes and, you know, you want to, um, with me.”

The man’s smile spread slowly across his face. He nodded once, never taking his eyes off Dean.

Dean’s face flushed with the attention the man was directing at him. “Uh, okay, cool. Uh… I’m Dean Winchester.” He extended his hand, and the man grasped it in a firm handshake and said, “Cas Novak.”

“Cas. Cool name.”

“Thank you. So, when might you be free? I imagine your landscaping business keeps you quite busy, especially since you’re the owner and spring has finally sprung.”

Dean pursed his lips in confusion. “How did you know that I owned a landscaping business?”

He rested his elbow on the bar and looked at Dean thoughtfully. “You’ve been in with your crew a few times, and you were all wearing work t-shirts with your logo on them. Your crew respects you and speaks to you with a certain deference reserved for someone in charge. You’re tanned and your hands are calloused, so you work outside with them, but sometimes you’re dressed in business casual wear, so you must meet with potential clients and other business contacts. That tells me that you literally have your hands in all aspects of the business, which few people would be invested enough to do. That, along with the fact that the business is called Winchester Landscaping, tells me you’re either the owner or related to the owner.” He smiled at Dean, who looked flabbergasted. “How did I do?”

“Good. You did… good. Right on the money.” He honestly hadn’t thought the guy noticed him at all. After a moment, he said, “So I don’t know what you do.”

Cas smiled. “Well that sounds like a date question, Dean Winchester.”

Dean smiled back and shook his head. “Come on, Cas, you gotta level the playing field at least.”

Cas nodded. “Okay. Tell you what, Dean. You guess what I do to earn money, and you can choose the first un-date we do.”

“Oh, how generous, thanks,” Dean snarked and Cas snickered. “Um, I don’t think I’m as good at observing people as you are,” he said uncertainly.

“Not to worry. I’ll make it multiple choice. What do you think?” Dean agreed.

“Okay, Dean. What do I do to earn my income? Am I… a) a business advisor, b) a teacher, c) a potter?”

Dean eyed him up and down, considering his response. He had a feeling this guy was an enigma wrapped in a mystery. He decided to be bold and grabbed his hand, examining it carefully. Suit Dude – Cas – didn’t flinch. “Your hands are pretty smooth and clean,” he noted, “definitely like you scrub them a lot. But there’s a little bit of something just under your nails there and there. Could be dirt, though it doesn’t look like soil. Could be… clay? You could be an elementary school teacher. Most school teachers wouldn’t wear suits, so maybe you teach high school or college. You seem like a thinker, so probably college, but you don’t like pretentiousness, so maybe not.” Cas smiled as Dean tried to puzzle him out. He let go of Cas’ hand and eyed him up and down again. “You’ve had that computer with you every time I’ve seen you and Gabe said you work all the time, so you could be a business advisor or you could’ve been grading papers or something. And honestly, I don’t know what a potter is.” He sighed, and a thought came to him. He smiled and said slowly, “I think it’s D – all of the above.”

Cas smiled widely and said, “I’m impressed, Dean. I am a business advisor, mostly financial advising, but other business planning as well. I also teach piano lessons and I make and sell pottery.” Dean pumped his fist in victory and Cas chuckled.

“Isn’t that kind of boring for you? Business advising?” Dean asked. “The other stuff seems so creative.”

“Actually, no, it’s not boring. Not the way I do it, anyway. So, what would you like to do?”

Dean thought a moment. “Well, I have almost no food left, so let’s do groceries. Sunday, 8:00 a.m., at the Market Basket in Somerville?”

“Eight in the morning, huh? On a Sunday? You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Winchester. I’ll be there.” They agreed to meet at the entrance, and Dean stood to leave. Cas stopped him with a brief touch on his arm. “May I give you my cell number in case something comes up?” Dean agreed, and gave Cas his phone. Cas entered his number, then called his phone to get Dean’s and thanked him as he handed it back.

Dean turned to leave, then thought of something and turned back and squinted suspiciously at the dark-haired man. “Cas… no matter which of your answers I guessed, I would’ve been right, since you do all of them.”

Cas smiled minutely at him. “See you Sunday, Dean.”

Dean huffed a laugh to himself as he walked out. He was still smiling when he climbed into his white Winchester Landscaping pickup truck and scrolled to find his new contact. He was confused for a moment when he didn’t find it under “Cas,” then scowled when he saw the name in his outgoing call list.

“I’m gonna kill Balthazar,” he muttered as “Suit Dude” stared back at him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday was drizzly, with the kind of dampness that gets into your bones and chills you all day. It was in stark contrast to the warmer temps they’d had last week, but still not atypical for April in New England. Dean arrived a few minutes before eight and waited in his car, a classic 1967 Chevy Impala. He’d wondered whether Cas would cancel, his un-dating plan chalked up to a foolish idea he got because he was lonely or irritated with Gabe, but the text he received last night confirmed their meeting. He had no idea what kind of vehicle to look for, but he figured it wouldn’t be hard to pick Cas out, since there were few cars in the lot on a Sunday morning and since Cas was – well, he stood out in a crowd. Still, he was surprised to see a red Mazda MX-5 Miata pull into the lot and park a few spaces away from him. Dean tried to keep himself from drooling. It was beautiful and looked to be impeccably maintained. When he saw Cas climb out, he held back an impressed grunt and climbed out to meet him.

“Hey,” Dean raised his hand in greeting as he approached. The man hadn’t been kidding about “come as you are” – he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, with his hair curling out of his Bruins cap. His bright blue running shoes, black track pants, and tight, faded blue Sugarloaf t-shirt completed the look. The blue shirt made his eyes stand out – it was the first time he’d seen them in the light, and they were so blue, like _Salvia_ _azurea_ or morning glories. Striking.

“You’re getting a preview of our gym day,” Cas joked as he held his arms open and gestured toward his clothing.

Dean laughed. “Hey, come as you are, right?” Dean mimicked Cas’ display – he was wearing faded jeans, a Red Sox t-shirt, and his work boots, which were the first shoes he could put his hands on. He thought he’d been running late. He forgot that he set his clock a few minutes ahead so that he’d always be early or on time.

Cas laughed with him. “A brilliant rule.” He grabbed his reusable bags from the trunk of his car.

“Nice car, man.”

Cas closed the trunk and they walked toward the entrance. “Thank you. My grandfather loved cars. I don’t know much about them, but we both enjoyed convertibles, and he loved the Miatas in particular. It’s kind of what I stick with, for a fun car, anyway. It’s kind of like keeping him close.”

“You’re close to your grandfather?” Dean asked as they pulled carts and started inside.

“He was a good man, and yes, we were very close. He died a few years ago. He and my grandmother… where are you going, Dean?”

“Uh, down the aisle?”

“Oh, sorry… I usually stick to the outside of the store – the perishables.” Cas followed Dean into the first aisle. “Anyway, he and my grandmother raised me.”

“Wow,” Dean said. “He sounds like he was a cool guy. I didn’t know my grandparents. Where were your parents?” Dean stopped suddenly, realizing his invasive question, and began to pull back. “Uh, sorry, that was kind of nosy…”

“Nonsense, Dean,” Cas assured him as they entered the canned goods aisle. “The whole point is to be ourselves and talk about things that matter. If there’s a question I don’t want to answer, I’ll tell you, and vice versa. Okay?” Dean felt immediately better and nodded. “Good. To answer your question, my biological parents were very young when they had me. My father – my grandparents’ son – was only 17. He stuck around for the first few years of my life, but he ran off when I was four. He died of a drug overdose a year later. My mother was only 14. She birthed me but decided she was too young to be a mother. She handed me to my biological father and his parents at the hospital and never looked back. At least I don’t think she did.” He picked up a can of peas and placed them in the cart. Dean tried to keep his face interested but casual as he threw some cans of chili in his cart, but inside his mind was churning. _This_ _poor_ _guy_. Cas, for his part, seemed unaffected, as if he’d told this story so often it was like it was about someone he didn’t know rather than about himself.

They rounded the corner. Dean grabbed several boxes of breakfast foods, including cereal and toaster pastries. Cas lingered at the teas and occasionally picked one up, reading the back, before he settled on Irish Breakfast and Apple Cinnamon. Dean looked curiously into Cas’ cart. It was nearly empty save for the lonely can of peas and, now, the teas.

“Uh, do you eat, dude?”

“Of course. I just try to eat healthfully. Mostly, anyway. When we start on the outer edges of the store, I’ll pick up a lot more.”

“You a health nut? I don’t know if I can un-date someone who’s a health nut. As you can see, I’m not.” Dean grinned a little self-consciously.

Cas smiled. “I wouldn’t call myself a health nut. I like a good burger or a greasy pizza. But one of my exes was into healthy eating, so I followed suit to be supportive, and now I just do it. It’s better for me, anyway. Gram likes it, too, and she likes the meals I make, so now I’m stuck,” he joked. “The women in my life are very insistent that I take care of myself.”

This information surprised Dean. “Was your ex a woman?”

“Yes. I’m bi, if I wasn’t clear about that before.”

“Oh, yeah, okay, it didn’t really come up. Uh, me too.”

“Well, that works out, doesn’t it?” Cas teased. “Her name’s Meg. We’re still friends. She insisted I take a take a Thai cooking class with her recently, so now I’ve been making a lot of Thai-influenced food. Speaking of, did we pass the rice noodles already? Gram loves Pad Thai.”

“Next aisle, with the foreign cuisine stuff,” Dean said. “So why’d it end with Meg?” He hoped he wasn’t being pushy.

“She had some insecurities and beliefs that interfered with our relationship to the point where it wasn’t healthy for either of us, and she made demands I couldn’t meet. I love her dearly, but we are much better off as friends.” Dean nodded. He’d had a girlfriend like that as well. Dean told Cas about his relationship with a woman named Lisa from a few years ago. He told her how they’d started off great but they both came with their own baggage and it didn’t really work out.

“Sometimes things don’t work out in order to make room for something better,” Cas mused.

“Very philosophical of you, Aristotle.”

“I try.”

They walked through several more aisles, talking about random things and sometimes not talking at all. Dean jokingly challenged Cas to a joust in the cleaning aisle, and to his surprise Cas gleefully accepted, which led to two grown men rolling their shopping carts down the aisle toward each other with mops in their hands, each trying to knock the other’s mop out of his grip. They got a few strange looks and a brief admonishment from one of the employees. Cas made dirty jokes and did bad impressions of celebrities with some of the vegetables in the produce section. Dean made as many bad puns as he could think of in the dairy section. By the time they rolled their carts to the parking lot, the drizzle was a steady rain. They packed their cars quickly but then stood facing each other, neither of them eager to say goodbye.

“I think this was a successful first un-date,” Dean said.

“The most successful un-date in recorded history,” Cas agreed.

“I’m not sure there have been any others, Cas.”

“So that makes it the best.”

“Following that logic, it’s also the worst, since there are no others to compare it to.”

“You’re a pessimist, Dean Winchester. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“And you’re just a ray of sunshine, Cas Novak.” Cas grinned at him. “Hey, is Cas short for something?”

“It is.”

“Short for what?”

Cas quirked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “Guess.”

“Okay, but if I get it right, I get to choose the next un-date.”

Cas’ expression softened a little. “Agreed. But if you decide later that you don’t want another, I can just tell you my name so you’ll never wonder what the full name of that incredibly handsome weirdo was. I wouldn’t let your curiosity kill you.”

Dean laughed. “That’s very kind. How many guesses do I get?” They argued but agreed on five. Cas folded his arms and waited.

“Cassie.”

“No.”

“Cassidy.”

“No.”

“Casey.”

“Nope.”

“Cassius. Like the boxer.”

“No. No one’s guessed that before.”

“Uhhh… Caspar?”

“No. I’m impressed you came up with five, though. Most people quit after Cassie.”

Dean admitted his defeat. “So what is it?”

“It’s Castiel.”

“Castiel. In a hundred years, I never would have guessed that. I’ve never heard of it.”

“I was counting on that.” Dean gave him a light shove and Cas grinned. “It’s based on the name of an angel. My grandmother liked angelic names. She thought they brought good luck. She gave both her son and her daughter angelic names. You probably noticed that Gabriel and Balthazar have angelic names, too.”

Dean frowned in confusion. “Are they your brothers or something?”

Cas laughed. “Thank God, no. They’d be even pushier and more protective than they already are. They are stepbrothers to each other, but they’re cousins to me. They’re her daughter’s children, so I guess because they adopted me I’m technically their uncle, but we don’t see it that way. The love of angelic names was passed down, apparently.”

Dean scrunched up his forehead. “Balthazar has…”

“An accent. Yes. He lived abroad with his biological father for a number of years before coming back to live with his mother, my Aunt Anna, in the States. Teen angst, I guess.” Dean nodded.

“So,” Dean said as he cleared his throat, “since I didn’t guess correctly, I think you should pick the next un-date. Um, if you want to go on another one.”

Cas smiled. “Are you free Friday morning? That’s when Neige has her grooming appointment.”

“Is that your cat?”

“My grandmother’s, yes. It’s the French word for snow. She’s a Persian.”

“Ah. And what’s involved in grooming a cat? I pretty much thought they did it themselves.”

“Well, they care for her coat, check and trim her claws, express her anal glands, clean her ears…”

“Express her anal glands? Dude.”

“It’s a problem for many animals. I understand it can be rather uncomfortable if left unattended. As much as I love her, though, I’m happy to pay someone else to do it.”

Dean scoffed. “Are you sure they’re not ripping you off? ‘Cause that sounds like some extra thing for nothing, like when they try to sell you undercoating or fabric protection shit when you buy a new car.”

“I assure you, it’s a real thing. So, Friday? We could meet at 9:30 at my home, or I could meet you at the groomer at 10:00. I live in Chestnut Hill.”

“Ooh, Newton, huh? Pretentious.” Cas rolled his eyes but flashed a quick grin, so Dean continued, “Yeah, I can meet you at your place. Text me the address?”

“Will do. See you then.” He smiled and nodded a goodbye to Dean.

“See you then, Mr. Fancy Pants!” Dean called to egg him on, grinning wickedly.

“That’s Suit Dude to you, sir,” he bantered back as he climbed into his car.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The texts started innocently enough.

_From Suit Dude 2:45pm: It’s a real thing._

The text had a link to an article from some veterinary site about anal gland expression. Dean laughed. He noticed he hadn’t changed Cas’ name in his contacts yet, so after he skimmed the article (hey, if the guy was nice enough to send it, he was gonna read it – plus with his luck Cas would ask him about it), he changed Suit Dude to Cas. He didn’t have a photo, so he looked up a photo of a candy apple red Miata and used that as the guy’s contact photo.

_From Dean 2:55pm: okay I believe you no need to be a zealot_

_From Cas 2:57pm: I assure you, I will refrain from becoming overzealous about anal glands. Happy?_

_From Dean 2:59pm: I think there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere_

For the next hour, Dean texted him all the innuendos related to anal glands he could think of, and Cas sent him emojis expressing his thoughts on the matter (the eye rolling emoji was the usual response, but it was usually followed by a smiley face). He was a cool guy, not afraid to roll right along with Dean, but not afraid to tell him what he thought, either.

It rained through Wednesday, so Thursday was very busy as they tried to catch up on several days of missed work. When Friday arrived, Dean knew they were still behind. As a responsible business owner, he knew he should cancel with Cas. The health of his business was a little more important than this un-date thing. He really should help his guys out. He should try to squeeze in some consultations and check in with some of their clients, and maybe try to collect on some unpaid stuff. He had shit to do. Cas would understand.

He decided not to cancel. It would be too late to, anyway, he reasoned, and he was a man who kept his commitments, however silly they may be. He actually did manage to get an early morning consultation in with a lady in Cambridge who wanted some ornamental shrubs and trees planted near the pool and deck they’d be installing. He was still early, but Dean texted Cas to see if he could stop by anyway, since he wasn’t too far.

_From Dean 8:42am Mind if I stop by early? In Cambridge and rather not go back home first. Can stop for coffee and wait it out if you’re busy. Or I can bring you some._

_From Cas 8:43am No problem. I’ll be in a lesson, but we’ll be wrapping up by the time you get here. The door will be unlocked. Come on in and make yourself comfortable._

Cas didn’t tell him whether he wanted coffee, but he was going to stop anyway, so he bought Cas a cup and grabbed cream and sugar on his way out. Dean pulled up to the address Cas texted him. He whistled low to himself.

The house was beautiful, a large, classic Colonial with blue shingles and black shutters. Mature trees and dormant flower beds dotted the large yard. It looked like it hadn’t had a landscaper’s touch in a while, but it really had potential. He climbed the stairs leading to the wide-planked front porch. A ramp to the side also led to the porch. Cas told him the door would be unlocked, so he tucked the coffee cups in one arm and opened the door.

A familiar song greeted him as he pushed his way into the house. He looked around the foyer. It was large and warm, with wood floors, green and gold papered walls, and an Oriental rug. A few cushioned chairs were set against the walls, and a small table between two chairs held magazines, a coffeemaker, and some mugs. In one corner, a large, cranberry-colored glazed pot held umbrellas. It looked handmade, done with the kind of attention that wasn’t possible in mass-produced pieces. He wondered if Cas made it.

He nodded a greeting to the woman sitting in one of the chairs with her young son. She greeted him warmly in return. He made faces at the little boy as he settled in to wait.

“Are you here for a lesson?” she asked.

“No, I have two left hands,” he joked, and she chuckled. “Are you?”

“Oh, no, I’m waiting for my daughter.”

“Ah,” Dean said as he heard a young voice murmuring and Cas’ low rumble responding. “She’s good. That was a pretty piece she was playing.”

“Yes, she is. She was playing Ode to Joy with his accompaniment. She’s practicing for her recital.”

“He does those? I assumed the lessons were kind of a small side project for him.”

“Well, they are, I think,” she shrugged, “but he thinks it’s important to give them the opportunity to perform, so he holds a recital at the end of the school year. Plus, he loves the kids and he’s so proud of them, he wants to show them off. Rachel just adores him.” Dean nodded. “He tries to tell me to find another teacher that’s better than him. He says she’s a prodigy. But I know he was a prodigy in his own right, though he’ll never say it. Besides that, though, she won’t let him go and I don’t want to. He challenges her and never talks down to her, but he also treats her like the 6-year-old child she is, and I think that’s important.” Dean smiled thoughtfully as the boy grabbed his finger and started chewing on it. He loved kids, but he wasn’t sure he would’ve taken Cas for a guy who had a soft spot for kids. He made more silly faces at the baby, who giggled infectiously.

Cas and a little girl stepped into the foyer, and the girl greeted her mother enthusiastically. The boy squealed in delight at seeing his sister.

“Okay, Ryan, practice that piece for at least thirty minutes a day, and don’t forget your finger exercises.”

The girl put her hands on her hips and smiled as she tried to act stern. “That’s not my name. My name is Rachel and you know it.” She wiggled her finger at him.

“Oh, my, I’m so sorry, how rude of me to forget your name,” he said in mock embarrassment. This was clearly a game they played a lot. “Forgive me, my dear.” She smiled and latched onto his legs as her mother gathered their things. He ruffled her hair. He spoke to her mother briefly about the lesson as he walked them to the door.

He watched them walk down the porch step. As they stepped onto the path, he called out, “See you, Rocky!” She turned around and blew a raspberry at him. He laughed and waved as he closed the door.

“You’re good with her,” Dean remarked as Cas stepped into the foyer.

“I enjoy children very much. They are bright and lively and naturally resilient. I’d love to have a couple someday.”

Well, that confirmed the whole soft spot for kids thing. He couldn’t believe Cas shared that with him, a guy he barely knew. Most people would hold their cards a little closer to their chests for a while, but it didn’t seem to faze Cas.

“Her mom raved about you.”

Dean noticed Cas deflected the compliment. “She’s a very talented student and a lovely girl, full of spark.”

“She one of your favorites?”

“I try not to play favorites, but I enjoy her. She is very resilient despite her life circumstances.” Dean wasn’t sure what he meant, but he wasn’t going to pry. “I noticed you seem good with children, Dean. You were very warm and genuine. Isaiah liked you very much.”

“I’ve gotten a lot of practice with my brother’s kids. Makes me want a couple of my own someday, too, maybe.” It didn’t feel as strange as he would’ve expected to admit that since Cas had gone first. “I like kids and they like me. It helps that we function at about the same level,” Dean joked.

“I hardly think so. You are much more intelligent, sophisticated, and nuanced.”

“Well, no one’s ever called me those,” Dean deflected as he shyly stroked the back of his neck. Cas gazed at him warmly.

“Well, let me get Neige and we’ll be on our way. Come on into the parlor. I’ll probably have to pull her out from under one of the beds upstairs.” He led Dean into a dark, jewel-toned sitting area that managed to feel homey rather than serious, with windows that overlooked what likely was a large, colorful garden in the summer, a loveseat festooned with homemade blankets, and a baby grand piano in the corner. A short, gray-haired woman with thick glasses sat in an overstuffed chair near one of the windows. She smiled as she heard her grandson enter the room.

“Castiel, who do you have with you?” she asked with slightly slurred speech.

Cas beckoned Dean to join him in front of her. “Gram, this is Dean. Dean, this is my grandmother, Rosemarie Novak.”

Dean picked up her hand and held it gently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Novak.”

She waved her left hand weakly at him. “Call me Gram. Anyone who could finally get my boy to buy me Twinkies is a good man.” Dean laughed heartily. He had indeed convinced Cas to loosen up and buy a little bit of junk food. “Castiel tells me you have a car my husband would’ve tried to buy off you.” Dean started telling her about his car while Cas hunted down the cat. He came down a few minutes later, his hand telling the tale of his argument with the cat that he eventually won.

Dean noticed the long, bloody scratch. “She got you, huh?”

“She won the battle, but I won the war,” he said as he lifted the carrier with the fluffy white cat inside.

“Oh, that was naughty, Minou des Neiges,” Gram scolded. “Did you scratch Castiel again?” Dean made a confused face at the name.

“I’m fine, Gram. She just gets nervous about the carrier.” He turned to Dean. “Minou des Neiges is her full name. It means ‘Kitty of the Snows.’ I shorten it. Ready to go?”

Cas did a final check in with his grandmother to make sure she was all set before they headed out. They took Cas’ other vehicle, a Range Rover, which he explained he bought for its off-road capability and its cargo space for some of his larger pieces and for his outdoor equipment and household needs. Dean knew it was an expensive vehicle, yet Cas’ reasons were nothing but practical. The guy didn’t make apologies for his fancy-ass cars or suits or address, but he didn’t seem particularly affected by them, either. An enigma.

They rolled into the groomer, which was located within the local no-kill animal shelter. Cas explained that he liked to bring Neige there because the shelter did good work and benefited from the income the grooming brought in.

“Good morning, Cas!” the bright-eyed receptionist greeted him. He greeted her warmly in return and handed the carrier to her. She said it would take about an hour and he was welcome to do “his usual,” whatever that meant.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” Cas said as he led him toward the smaller animals, including rabbits, ferrets, and rats. He explained some of the facts about the shelter and pulled one of the rats out of its cage for Dean to hold.

“Do they let you have the run of the place, or what?” Dean asked as he petted the large white rat.

“I volunteer here sometimes, so I have all the rights and privileges hereto,” he laughed.

He then led them to the “cat wing,” as Cas called it. It looked new, with bright, open areas and hiding spots, plenty of windows, and places to climb. They spent some time visiting with the cats and new kittens. Cas explained the importance of socialization as he handled them gently. Dean hadn’t really thought of himself as a cat person, but they were adorable and he quickly found himself playing with several of them, letting the kittens wrestle with his hand. He noticed that Cas had an easy rapport with the staff.

“Come on, let’s go visit the dogs,” Cas said as he led the way out, squirting some hand sanitizer into his hands as they went. Dean missed the one just inside the door of the cat wing, so he turned and caught the one just outside of it. As he rubbed his hands, his eyes traveled up to the sign just above the dispenser. _This_ _wing_ _was_ _made_ _possible_ _with_ _the_ _generous_ _support_ _of_ _Rosemarie_ _and_ _Castiel Novak, in memory of Charles H. Novak_. Huh. Cas hadn’t mentioned it.

“You didn’t mention you donated the money to build the cat wing,” Dean commented as they were greeted by multiple barking dogs.

“Why would I?” he answered with a confused look as he handed Dean a leash. “Let’s take a couple for a little walk. They love it.” Dean smiled at the man’s humility.

Cas leashed a spunky pit bull mix and Dean leashed a mellow beagle. Cas led the way to some paths just outside the facility where the dogs were exercised.

“Did you have pets growing up?” Cas asked as they started out.

“Nah, we moved around too much.”

“Oh?”

There was just something about the man that made him want to open up, and that one sound, uttered in Cas’ gentle but unprovoking tone, led Dean into talking about his mom’s death and his dad’s struggles with gambling and drinking, their occasional slips into homelessness, and his own insecurity and fears around money. He admitted that he almost panicked and canceled on Cas because he was afraid he wouldn’t scrape by this week with the bad weather, even though he had saved a lot of money in his “rainy day fund” and knew intellectually that he’d be fine. Cas listened attentively, without judgment or advice. Dean felt raw and exposed. Seen.

When Dean grew quiet, Cas said sheepishly, “I try very hard not to be selfish, but… I’m glad you didn’t cancel. I’ve never looked forward to anal gland expression more.” His eyes twinkled as he looked back at Dean.

The unexpected levity was just what Dean needed, and he burst into laughter and rebutted, “Well, you’ve never had me in bed, then.” Cas’ deep laugh vibrated through him and caused tears to spring in both of their eyes.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_From Cas 8:17am: Get your ass out of bed. We’re going to the gym._

_From Cas 8:30am: Get up, stop being lazy._

_From Dean 8:32am: Hey I’m not lazy_

_From Cas 8:32am: I knew that would get your attention._

_From Dean 8:38am: I thought we planned out this stuff ahead of time_

_From Cas 8:39am: Where’s that written? That seems like date talk to me. Planning ahead, pshaw. Besides, you wanted me to surprise you. Surprise. :) Am I really bothering you? I’m sorry if I am._

_From Dean 8:42am: Dude, who says pshaw? And no you weren’t bothering me_

_From Cas 8:43am: I say pshaw, obviously. It’s a perfectly acceptable, underutilized word._

_From Cas 8:45am: We can go to Sonic after. Kill two un-dates with one stone._

_From Dean 8:51am: Trying to get rid of me faster?_

_From Dean 9:02am: Cas?_

_From Cas 9:06am: I apologize for the delay. Gram needed some help. She burned something on the stove. No, I’m not trying to get rid of you. I tried to tempt you with burgers and milkshakes, since the anticipation of seeing me sweat wasn’t enough._

_From Dean 9:09am: Burgers and sweaty men – my kryptonite. OK give me time to get ready. Where and when?_

_From Cas 9:12am: I’m a member at Boston Sports Clubs. You live in Somerville, right?_

_From Dean 9:16am: Yeah. There isn’t one closer to you?_

_From Cas 9:17am: There is, but you need time to get ready, diva. :) I don’t mind the drive. How about 10:30 at the BSC in Somerville?_

_From Dean 9:20am: Yeah, sure. Hope you’re happy. This is my only day off this week_

_From Cas 9:22am: You’re choosing to spend your only day off by getting up and spending it with me at the gym and in a car eating burgers. I am happy. Perplexed, but happy._

_From Dean 9:24am: You charmer, you_

Truthfully, Dean didn’t have any plans, and he kind of missed hanging out with Cas. They hadn’t seen each other since the shelter un-date a little over three weeks ago. They’d both been busy, and Cas had to travel for business. Dean tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal. They’d been texting and even talked on the phone once. It’s not like they were a “thing,” or even friends. Well, maybe friends. Still, even though they weren’t dating or anything, Cas had already started filling a place in Dean’s life.

The gym was fairly busy for a Sunday. True to his word at the grocery store, Cas wore pretty much the same clothing he’d worn then – track pants, Sugarloaf t-shirt, running shoes – but without the hat. He shucked off the track pants to reveal workout shorts. Dean found himself staring a little when Cas’ shirt stretched across his back as he used the rowing machine. He was right about the sweat – Cas’ shirt was soon dark blue in several spots, which made it stick to his body. Dean busied himself with his own machine and tried not to stare any more than he already was.

“You must not need to work out that much, with your job,” Cas noted later as they ran on the treadmills side by side.

“I should do it more, actually. I’m not out busting my hump quite the way I used to. Too much else to worry about,” Dean said a little breathlessly.

“It can be hard to run your own business.”

“Yeah… I miss the physical exertion sometimes. It’s simple. I don’t have to think. That’s why I still get out there sometimes with the guys. Plus, they won’t respect me if I don’t,” Dean puffed.

Cas ran along, increasing his speed with seemingly little effort. “I think they would still respect you. You’ve built a successful business because of your passion. People who don’t even know you well, like Gram, can see you’re passionate about it.” Dean had been out to see Castiel’s grandmother a couple of weeks ago while Cas was away, after she called him to consult about her flower beds and adding “year-round interest.” He noticed the cane and thick glasses when he met her the first time – the results of a stroke and of macular degeneration, Cas told him later – so during the consultation he asked if he could incorporate a sensory garden into the plan. Cas told him later that his design, which included different sensory elements like scent and sound as well as simple walkways, was brilliant, thoughtful, and far beyond what they had expected. He felt unsure about taking on the job, not wanting to exploit Cas and whatever they had going on, but Rosemarie insisted and Cas backed her up and assured Dean he did not feel exploited in the least. He felt proud and honored that Cas and Rosemarie were so pleased.

“Yeah, I’ve got passion in spades…”

“No pun intended?”

Dean thought for a second. “Ha, no… what I don’t really have is all the little business skills you need to make it long-term. I mean, Sammy and I can balance the books and we work hard to get the word out there, but there are bigger and badder companies that’ll eat up little guys like us.”

“No one has all the skills they need, Dean. That’s why you hire people. Take me, for example – I oversee my grandfather’s business, but I have others with more know-how do the day-to-day. The advising business is mine, but I have someone else do the books. I have the skill, but I like the critical eye. I also have someone do my websites and manage them. She’s also my assistant. She manages my administrative and professional concerns, but does it as an independent contractor. She has other clients, too. Maybe you’d like to meet her?”

“I’m not sure I could afford it,” Dean grunted as he challenged himself to pick up the pace as Cas was.

“She pays for herself, trust me,” Cas replied, only slightly breathless. “I’ll give you her name and contact info, no obligation. She’s really great, though. Likable and very intelligent. She’s given me a lot of time back, which I’ve been able to invest in other business matters and personal interests. I think you’d find the same thing.” Dean agreed to take the information and think about it.

After hard workouts and hot showers (in which Dean resolved not to check out the back muscles that had been hidden under Cas’ shirt), they drove to Peabody in Dean’s Impala. The ride was easy, sometimes filled with talking and sometimes filled with quiet pauses. They pulled into the parking space and promptly ordered thick, greasy burgers piled with toppings, fries, and two extra thick chocolate shakes.

“There goes the workout,” Dean joked.

“We did the workout to make room for this,” Cas joked in return.

The car was filled with the scent of fried food and the sounds of satisfied moaning around mouthfuls of burger and the slurping of shakes. Neither felt pressure to speak for a while.

“What do you really want, Dean?” Cas asked suddenly but quietly. Dean stopped chewing, unsure of exactly what Cas meant. It must have shown on his face, because Cas clarified, “With your business. You mentioned that you have some insecurities about money – and by the way, every entrepreneur does, if they say they don’t they’re lying – but if you were able to feel secure financially and there was no criticism or ‘shoulds,’ what would you be doing with your business?”

Dean hadn’t ever thought about it, because he really didn’t think it would ever happen. Cas gave him time and space to think, hardly realizing that he was blowing Dean’s mind with the question.

“I’d do more designing. I’d help people with my designs, like your Gram. I’d do cool sculptures and make huge vegetable gardens for people to share. I’d get kids to love working in the dirt.” It sounded so pie-in-the-sky… but so nice.

Cas turned to him with soft eyes and said encouragingly, “Tell me more about it.”

And so he did. For two hours, Dean sat in the parking lot of a Sonic Drive-In and laid bare his wishes, passions, and dreams for his work. He eliminated the possibility that these things were unattainable and instead focused on how great it felt to believe they could happen. For the next hour after that, Cas and Dean tossed out different ways that he might be able to make some of those things happen, both in the future and today. Cas suggested little things Dean could do every day to live the life he wanted. By late afternoon, Dean was buzzing with energy, and Cas was thrilled to sit in its wake.

On the way home, a thought occurred to Dean, as it often did after talking to Cas. He turned to him and said, “That’s what you do, isn’t it? With the business advising. You don’t talk to people about money, not really. You talk to them about their dreams.”

Cas winked. “That’s right. That’s why it’s not boring.”

“You sneaky bastard.”

Cas laughed.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dean thought about his talk with Cas all week, in part because Cas wouldn’t let him forget it. He texted Dean each day asking him what he was doing that day to keep that feeling he’d built up in the car, that excitement about the future of Winchester Landscaping. His future. Cas had even sent him information about different things he and Sam could do financially to make them more secure even as they took risks. It felt great to think that maybe he could really build this up to something amazing. He let himself wonder if he’d be able to say the same thing about him and Cas someday.

Today, they were meeting with Cas’ assistant, Charlie. Dean had no idea what to expect. When he’d brought it up to Sam, he was surprised to see his reaction – which was shock followed by thoughtful approval. However, waiting for her to arrive, he was starting to have second thoughts. Sam watched him pace up and down the tiny office in Dean’s apartment that served as Winchester Landscaping HQ.

“You’re making me dizzy,” Sam teased as Dean spun around in the room for the umpteenth time. “Relax. We’re not obligated to do anything. And this Cas guy trusts her, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but he’s loaded and we aren’t. What if she’s expecting something else? Something better? What if we don’t meet up to her standard?”

“Doesn’t she have to meet up to our standard? _We’d_ be hiring _her_.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And you said that Cas said she’s likable.”

“Yeah….”

“And from what I understand Cas’ word is like gospel, so…”

“Hey, I never said that.”

“Didn’t have to. It’s always ‘Cas this’ and ‘Cas that.’ I’m beginning to think he walks on water,” Sam grinned.

“He doesn’t,” Dean grumbled, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s a good guy. Smart.”

“Uh huh. I’m looking forward to meeting the mysterious guy who’s not dating my brother.”

“Yeah, yeah. Next week, when we start the job at their place, you’ll meet him. And don’t be embarrassing.”

“Why do you care? Not like you’re dating or anything. Or do you have a little _crush_?” Sam sing-songed.

“Sam…” he said in warning.

The doorbell interrupted their conversation. Dean braced himself so hard for whatever was on the other side of the door that he laughed when he saw it was just a young woman with flaming red hair wearing a comic book t-shirt and olive drab skirt with flip flops. She was probably selling magazine subscriptions for some nerdy fundraiser.

“Hi, can I help you?” Dean asked.

“Hey, I’m looking for Dean and Sam Winchester? Winchester Landscaping?”

“That’s us,” Sam said as he materialized next to Dean.

“Hey, nice to meet you, finally! I’m Charlie!” she said enthusiastically. She stopped uncertainly as she scanned their faces. “Our meeting was today, right? At 11:00?”

They quickly shook themselves out of their shock. The woman in front of them was not what they were expecting.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m Dean, this is Sam. Come on in.” Dean moved aside to allow Charlie to enter his apartment.

“Awesome, thanks! So I take it I’m not what you expected?” She laughed as they stumbled over their words, trying to apologize and make excuses for their stunned faces. “No worries. I get that a lot. Cas never tells people what to expect. It makes for a more honest relationship between me and the potential clients.”

They nodded and invited her to sit. Sam asked her about her shirt, and before they knew it, they were ordering pizza and talking about the latest Comic-Con. She was very affable and non-judgmental. Dean felt very much at ease.

“Okay!” she said around a mouthful of pepperoni and onion, “so Cas didn’t tell me _anything_ about what you’re hoping to do, even though I begged him like, a million times. He said he wanted you guys to tell me because,” she affected a low voice, “ _this is a professional relationship between you and Winchester Landscaping. I only facilitated the referral_.” She laughed at her own imitation, and Dean laughed along with her. Sam smiled but didn’t understand the full impact of her imitation. Charlie listened carefully as Dean bared his vision for the second time that week, nodding and throwing in ideas when appropriate. Sam added his own hopes and dreams for the business. When he finished, she talked with them about the services she offers and how she might help them reach some of their goals. Dean shared a look with Sam that said _yes, let’s hire her_. Sam nodded.

“We’d like to hire you,” Dean started, but Charlie held up a finger.

“One thing before you guys decide whether to hire me,” she said. “I pride myself on being a professional, and I don’t usually have to talk about this with people Cas refers, but I think I do in this instance.” She glanced at Dean. The brothers leaned forward and listened attentively. “Cas and I do business together, yes, but we’re also best friends. We go way, way back.”

“Huh. I was kind of wondering,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I know we seem kind of different, right?”

Dean chuckled. “Well, Cas is an enigma.”

She smiled. “That he is.” She looked at Dean more closely, evaluating, then said, “I like you, so I’ll tell you a little something about Cas. He is the most giving person you’ll ever meet. Heart of gold. That’s all that most people see, and that’s definitely him, no faking. But the thing that most people don’t know about him is that they don’t really _know_ him at all.”

They gave her a puzzled look.

“See, to know someone, they have to let you in, right? Cas loves humanity, all living things, really. He lets most people into his heart, sometimes to his own detriment. But, he lets very few people into his soul. You’ll think you’re in, but you’re only in so far. Every lover he’s ever had and most of his friends and family have thought they were in that inner sanctum, but they weren’t. In fact, I think four people total have ever made it there – his grandparents, his cousin Gabe, and me.” She sighed, then continued, “I’m telling you all this because… well, the trust he has in me, it’s precious and I won’t jeopardize it for anything. So if something wonky happens with you guys, I’ll be professional and refer you elsewhere, but I’m always going to choose my friendship with Cas over anything else. Just so you know.”

“I respect that,” Sam said as he stood to shake her hand, “and I hope we can work together. Dean?”

Dean shook himself out of his stupor. “Yeah, yeah, I respect that, too. I think we’ll work great together.”

“Awesome!” Charlie cried. “Let’s get this started, bitches!”

Dean thought about Charlie’s words the rest of the day.

***

Monday morning dawned warm and bright, and Dean was feeling nervous. They were starting the landscaping project at Cas’ place, and he felt an intense pressure for everything to go perfectly.

“Listen up, guys,” Dean hollered over the voices of his crew gathered in the lot they rented to keep their trucks and equipment, “today we’re starting on the Novak project in Chestnut Hill…”

“Oh, yeah, we know,” Adam called jovially. Dean shot him a dirty look.

“…and I expect everyone to be _professional_ , as I always do. Remember, this is someone’s home. It’s also their place of business, since Mr. Novak works out of his home. Now, you’ve seen the plans, and I expect them to be followed to the letter. You run into any problems, you run it by me first. It’s important that even minor changes get run through me, alright? This yard is for a very sweet lady who has mobility and vision problems, so what you think is a little change could screw the whole thing up. This is our first attempt at this sort of thing, so how we do this could make or break whether we can continue to do these kinds of projects in the future. Also, because of her vision and mobility problems and because there are kids who come by, I want you to make sure you’re keeping things extra clean and picked up. No leaving nails or tools lying around. Clean language, too. We’ll be there for about four weeks, I think. They’d like everything done prior to the Fourth of July, so we’re gonna make that happen. And yes, I know the guy who lives there, but that doesn’t give you carte blanche to harass him about me or give him or me shit. We’re on a job. Questions? No? Let’s move.”

The crew started out, Dean in the lead pickup truck with Benny, Sam and the others following behind.

“Nervous, man?” Benny drawled as Dean’s left leg jiggled.

“A little,” Dean admitted. “Got a lot riding on this, you know?”

“Got a lot riding on every project,” he observed.

“Yeah, Ben, but it’s different. I wanna do more of these types of projects, doing stuff for people with special needs, and if we screw this up, man…”

“We ain’t gonna screw it up, you know that. Now I know you worked on that plan day and night, you consulted with people, it’s gonna be great. We always do our best work. Your people love you, they won’t let you down. I think you’re really worried about what a certain person will think. Maybe you gotta lot ridin’ on him, hmm?”

“I don’t,” Dean said, a little too quickly. “Like I told you, we aren’t a thing.”

“Yeah, I know. Just ‘cause you aren’t a thing officially don’t mean you’re not a thing though. You care about what he thinks.”

“Well yeah, he’s the client… well, Rosemarie is…”

“Yeah, save your client talk. Level with me. You like this guy.”

“Yeah, sure, he’s a nice guy. I’ve said that.”

“You want more.”

“Nah… no, what, don’t look at me like that, Benny.” Dean tapped a tuneless rhythm on the steering wheel and pointedly did not look at his friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Benny said, “That’s okay, Dean. I’ll just see for myself.” Dean began to second-guess having his close friends work on this project for his _whatever’s_ Gram.

The crew arrived and began unloading trucks. Dean knocked on the door to let Cas and Rosemarie know they had arrived. Dean wondered if they might still be sleeping when his knock went unanswered after a minute. He started to back away from the door when it whooshed open, a shower-soaked, towel-wrapped Cas on the other side.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said, his voice impossibly deeper than usual. They were probably the first words he’d spoken that day, which warmed Dean a little. “Sorry about my appearance. Thought I’d have time to finish up before you arrived.” His face was half-shaven, the other half covered in white cream.

“Uh…um, no, yeah, uh, it’s fine,” Dean stammered. “Come as you are, right?”

Cas chuckled and flashed Dean a bright smile. Dean caught a faint whiff of mint. “Well, I did think that was only for our un-dates, but I’ll take it.” Then the bastard _winked_ at Dean and said, “Come on in. Let me finish up and get dressed. I don’t think I want to meet your crew wearing a towel.” As Cas turned his back and led him toward the kitchen, Dean found himself staring at the rivulets trickling from Cas’ dark hair down his spine and into the fluffy gray towel circling his waist. Cas stopped suddenly and turned toward Dean, causing him to crash into the blue-eyed man. Dean felt Cas’ hands wrap around his biceps to steady him, and he blushed, adding to his embarrassment.

“Sorry about that, Dean, my fault,” Cas said. He smoothed his hands over the sleeves of Dean’s navy blue t-shirt, where he’d captured the man when he’d stumbled into him. “What I was going to ask before I so rudely turned on you and interrupted your walk was if you’d like some coffee – I have plenty brewed.” He smiled again at Dean as if it was no big deal that Dean was standing there, blushing like an idiot. Maybe to him it wasn’t. Or maybe Cas thought he had a sunburn. Dean prayed for the latter. He exhaled quickly and smiled, agreeing to coffee and hoping to gain some kind of self-control back. Cas gestured toward the kitchen.

“Mi casa es su casa, Dean. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” Cas flashed him another smile and left the room, leaving Dean with Rosemarie, who was seated at the table. He greeted her warmly as he prepared his coffee, ignoring both the fact that he already had a full cup of coffee in his truck and the little spark of feeling he got preparing coffee in Cas’ kitchen first thing in the morning after just seeing the man fresh from the shower. Between meeting her a couple of times in person and the times he’d spoken with her on the phone, Dean could understand Rosemarie’s stroke-slurred speech enough to carry on a conversation, and they talked amiably until Cas returned, shaven, dressed in a suit, and wearing some type of aftershave that made Dean’s nose tingle.

“We’d love to meet everyone before they get started, Dean, if it’s alright with you,” Cas said as he pulled a travel mug with a Bruins logo from the cupboard. “Do you mind bringing them in?”

Dean stepped out and called his crew, who dutifully stopped what they were doing and gathered inside the kitchen. Cas was seated next to his Gram. He quietly and discreetly cleaned a bit of coffee she had spilled onto the table as he smiled at something she said. Dean’s heart melted a little at the interaction. He was clearly very devoted to her. Cas stood and Gram stayed seated when the crew was together.

“Everyone, this is Cas and this is Rosemarie, our clients for this project. Cas, Gram, this is Benny, my brother Sam, Adam, Jo, and Bobby,” Dean said as he introduced the crew. Everyone murmured their hellos and nice to meet yous.

Cas welcomed them and said, “Please feel free to use the bathroom off the foyer and to take your lunches and breaks in the kitchen if you like – the air conditioning will probably feel nice after working in the sun. There’s coffee in the foyer as well, and here in the kitchen. I work from home so I’ll post my schedule in case there’s anything you need, although Dean could assist you as well, I’m sure. I just ask that any items you bring in with you are brought out. My grandmother has difficulty with mobility and vision, and I also have young children that visit for lessons periodically.” The crew nodded, already knowing this from Dean.

Cas’ grandmother spoke up, slowly. “And don’t be afraid to talk to the old lady in the corner, even though she talks funny.” Everyone laughed at her comment.

“They won’t have time to talk to you because I’ll be taking up all your time,” Dean flirted lightly as he leaned in to squeeze her hand.

“Oh, you’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?” she joked with him.

“You got me,” he joked back.

“Well, that’s good for my Castiel. I can see why he likes you.” Dean caught Cas blushing and smiling weakly as he dropped his chin to his chest. Even though his crew was watching, Dean decided to see how much he could make the normally unflappable Cas squirm. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Cas, to his credit, didn’t try to stop his grandmother from talking.

“Oh, he does, does he?” he smirked as he leaned closer to Rosemarie.

“Oh yes, he enjoys his time with you, although he told me about your un-dating thing and I don’t understand why he doesn’t take you on a proper date. You’re much better than Michael. He had a stick up his behind so high it was coming out of his mouth.…”

The room erupted in laughter. Cas smiled in wide-eyed embarrassment and shook his head. He bent down and circled his arms around his grandmother from behind her chair, giving her a gentle hug. Dean was delighted to see Cas’ face turn crimson and his eyes sparkle with love.

“Oh my goodness, can you adopt me? I love you!” Jo squealed.

“You just have to put up with my mouth. Castiel says I have no filter,” Rosemarie answered, and the crew burst into another fit of laughter.

The work went smoothly, and Dean’s crew was easily folded into the loving acceptance and banter of the Novak household. Some nights, when the work was done, some of the crew would play cards with Gram on the porch, or they’d stay for Dean’s grilled burgers and Cas’ potato salad, or on especially hot days a few would stick around to cool off in the pool. Some nights Charlie or Gabriel or Balthazar would stop by. Other nights, it would be just Cas and Dean, talking until the fireflies made an appearance. It all began to feel very easy, and Dean mourned the end of June, when the job was complete. He wondered what would be next for him and Cas, now that they wouldn’t have a reason to see each other most days. They hadn’t gone on a single un-date in a month.

July 4 came quickly, and Dean was nervous. The Novak Independence Day party would be the unveiling of the new landscape. Cas casually mentioned that lots of people would be there – friends and family, clients, students, and some “special guests,” in addition to Dean, his crew, and their families. He knew that Cas and Gram were pleased with all of their work, and that was what mattered most, but he still wondered a little whether the new things he’d tried – the sensory garden, the water feature, the angel topiary he shaped out of boxwood – were good enough to belong at such an elegant home.

“Stop worrying,” Cas rumbled as he stepped behind Dean, who was watching through a window as the guests started arriving.

“I’m not worrying.”

“Uh huh.” Cas placed warm hands on Dean’s shoulders and dug into the tight muscles with strong fingers. Dean jumped at the sudden jolt of discomfort in the tender spots between his neck and shoulders.

“Not worrying, huh? Is that why you’re so tense? Your muscles feel like rocks,” Cas murmured. He stared out the window along with Dean, and Dean felt the tension start to melt away as Cas’ hands loosened his deltoids, then moved to his trapezius muscles.

In a small, raspy voice, Dean said, “I just want everyone to like it, you know? If this doesn’t pan out, I got nothin’.”

Cas gave his shoulders a quick, comforting squeeze. “One, your career is not built on one project. Two, not everyone will like everything, so don’t base your career on what _everyone_ likes. Stick to your vision. Three, the clients you did this project for love it, and they’ve been telling everyone about it and showing them pictures. I heard they’re even having a barbeque to show it off.” Dean could see Cas’ teasing smile reflected in the window. “Now come on. You’re here to have fun.” He stopped his ministrations and clapped him on the shoulder, beckoning him to follow. Only when Cas’ hands slid off him did Dean notice that Cas had never touched him before, not like that. It had felt so natural, like they’d been doing that sort of thing forever, that his mind and body never questioned it. He missed it already.

Dean followed him outside, and soon he was swallowed up by the happy atmosphere and words of praise and requests for his business cards. And after the special guests Cas had called came and went – representatives from the American Foundation for the Blind, the National Stroke Association, and the American Society of Landscape Architects, who all praised his work as well as gave him constructive feedback – Dean was floating. He played Marco Polo with the kids in the pool, had a pie-eating contest with Benny, Adam and Gabe, and hobnobbed with some of Cas’ business clients, who were not the stuffed shirts he’d expected. Every so often, he’d look around for Cas, who he’d find tending to his Gram and her friends, or grabbing extra towels or drinks for guests, or horsing around with the kids, particularly Sam’s three-year-old twins, who stuck to him like glue. Once, he saw him sitting quietly under a tree next to Charlie, leaning his head onto hers, eyes closed, smiling when she said something into his hair. He looked sleepy and innocent and relaxed. Dean remembered what Charlie said about Cas letting people into his heart, but not his soul. Cas clearly liked everyone at his party, loved many of them – and yet, so few really had the closeness Charlie enjoyed. He thought about Cas’ exes, none of whom apparently made the cut, and though he wasn’t really sure what he was to Cas, he found himself envying Charlie’s closeness to him. Cas opened his eyes and saw Dean, and gave him a huge, contented, proud smile and a wiggle of his fingers. Dean returned it before being tackled from behind by Benny’s kids, who tried to soak him with tiny water guns. When he vanquished his foes, he turned again toward Cas, who was laughing at some face Charlie was making at him and pushing her hands away when she tried to pinch his cheeks. He suddenly felt shy and intrusive, and turned to get away from the party for a while. He headed into the house and sat at the piano, absent-mindedly tapping at the keys.

“Do you play, Dean?” a voice asked. He was startled to see Rosemarie sitting in the attached living room.

“Uh, no, Gram, I sure don’t,” he chuckled. “Sorry I didn’t see you over there.” He walked into the living room and sat next to her on the couch.

“Just taking a little break. Are you having a good time?”

“Yes, very much. You know how to throw a party.”

“Well, that’s Castiel’s doing, or rather, Charlie’s and Gabriel’s doing. Gabe makes suggestions, Charlie makes most of the arrangements. Castiel nods a lot.” Dean laughed.

“I like Gabe. I’ve known him for a while because of the bar. Charlie’s awesome. She’s making big changes for my business already. She’s become a friend, too.”

“Oh, I thought she might. She’s a good lady, very smart.”

“Yes, she is.” Dean hesitated before saying, “Her and Cas are close, huh?” He’d spoken with both Cas and Charlie about it in a roundabout way, but he was curious about Rosemarie’s perspective.

“Oh yes, very close. She is one of the few people he really talks to.”

“Huh, yeah, that’s what she told me, too. Why is that, do you think?”

Rosemarie paused, and Dean thought perhaps he’d overstepped. But then she spoke again, slowly. “Castiel is a good boy. He is very good to everybody, very loving. He’s smart and he is so capable, very independent. She does not let him be these things with her.”

Dean frowned. “What do you mean, Gram?”

“Castiel thinks he has to be good all the time, always strong, always rely only on himself so he doesn’t bother anyone. She makes him be imperfect.” She smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to Dean. “She will not tolerate bullshit from him.”

He thought about her words, and from what Dean knew about Cas so far, they sounded accurate and it upset him. Cas always seemed so cool, calm and collected all the time, like he always had everything under control. Maybe that was the problem. Dean didn’t know how, but he decided he wanted to know the real Cas. That’s what this un-dating thing was about, wasn’t it? Dean was determined to get under his skin and shake him up, like Cas had done to him. It turned out Cas wasn’t like a spring breeze after all, as Dean first thought that night at the bar. No, Cas’ presence in Dean’s life was like a hurricane – he’d moved Dean, changed him, swept him up and laid him bare on the shore, scattering all the treasure he’d found in Dean’s depths for everyone to see. He wanted the same for Cas – to be free to be a mess with him and have it be okay. He wanted Cas to know that he didn’t have to be perfect to be perfect for Dean.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Dean wasn’t sure how to proceed. A couple of weeks after the party, they’d done another un-date – two, actually, mashed together into one exhausting day. Cleaning cars and basements had gleaned him a lot of information about Cas’ family and what was important to him (and a fantastic look at the man shirtless and in wet shorts), and Cas was his usual happy, charming self. Dean asked probing questions, and Cas answered them without a second thought. Now it was the beginning of August, and he felt like he was at an impasse, totally stumped as to how to climb over or break through Cas’ carefully-erected walls.

_From Dean 9:14am: What are you doing tonight?_

_From Cas 9:17am: Going on a fabulous date with a beautiful woman._

This was a surprise, and not a welcome one, though they’d never talked about being exclusive. They’d have to be dating to be exclusive, and they weren’t dating, exactly. Dean still wasn’t sure what they were to each other.

_From Dean 9:17am: …what?_

_From Cas 9:19am: Did you forget it’s bingo night? I’m taking Gram to bingo._

Dean was more relieved than he thought he had the right to be.

_From Dean 9:20am: You had me going there. I thought you’d gone soft._

_From Cas 9:21am: Hell no. :)_

_From Cas 9:21am: Would you like to join us? I believe it’s on the list._

_From Dean 9:23am: A three-way un-date? Kinky_

_From Cas 9:24am: That is wrong on so many levels._

Dean laughed, recognizing Cas’ dry response to Dean’s stupid humor. He sent him a laughing emoji.

_From Cas 9:26am: Besides, I would never want to share you that way, Dean._

Dean knew he was grinning goofily down at his phone, because Sam was giving him a look, but he didn’t care. A weight lifted off his shoulders.

_From Dean 9:26am: I wouldn’t want to share you either_

_From Cas 9:27am: I’m glad we feel the same way._

_From Cas 9:30am: So, bingo tonight? I’ll show you my dauber. ;)_

_From Dean 9:31am: Can’t wait_

“What are you so happy about?” Sam asked as he pulled up to the specialized school for children with autism, where they were doing a consultation for a sensory garden. Dean tucked his phone in his pocket and shrugged.

“Nothing. Just gonna be a good day.”

“You were talking with Cas.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

It was a good day. A great day, in fact. Word had gotten around about the landscaping job they’d done at the Novak house, and consultations were coming in steadily. Their home was featured in some special _Globe_ pull-out section about curb appeal last Sunday, and Winchester Landscaping got even more attention. Charlie was proving invaluable for her web knowledge and to keep their appointments straight. She was even fielding calls asking about Dean and Sam and whether they were “available” in the dating sense. Sam, of course, was married with children. Dean simply told Charlie to tell anyone who inquired that he was not available. Charlie seemed pleased.

Dean stopped by his apartment to shower and change, then made his way to Cas’ for bingo night. He didn’t know the first thing about bingo, but he assumed it would be boring and quiet. It didn’t matter – he’d be with Cas.

“Gram! How are you, sweetheart?” He hugged and kissed her in greeting at the door and smiled at Cas, who was draping a light sweater around her shoulders and supporting her with a hand on her back. Dean took her hand to help her outside while Cas pulled the door closed behind him.

“Oh, I see how _I_ rate,” Cas joked as they started toward the ramp.

“You want a hug and kiss too, Cas?” Dean said above Rosemarie’s head as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Not anymore.” Cas pretended to pout before breaking into a smile and a wink. Dean wondered about whether Cas actually did, and whether Dean had missed an opportunity. Damn it. He thought he caught a faint blush dust Cas’ cheeks before Cas changed the subject.

“We are going to use Dean’s car tonight, Gram. It’s a ’67 Impala, remember? Gramps would’ve loved it.”

“Oh yes, he would have,” she said as she climbed into the front seat. “It’s a beauty, Dean.” Dean preened at the praise and, for a moment, forgot about whether Cas wanted more from Dean or not. He remembered again as soon as they were on the road and he caught a glimpse of Cas in the rearview mirror. Cas was looking out the window, hand covering his mouth. He looked pensive. He glanced at the mirror and saw Dean looking at him, and Cas winked at him, eyes crinkling from the smile under the hand that still covered half his face, before looking out the window again. Dean felt his pulse quicken.

The bingo hall was not what Dean expected – it was in a church basement, and it was crowded, loud, and raucous. The smell of baked beans, coffee, and cookies floated in the air. Cas explained that they had a bean supper right before the games once per month, and gestured to the side of the hall designated for eating.

“Only the best dinner for our un-date,” Cas teased as he pinched a pair of tongs around a brownie and dropped it onto Dean’s Styrofoam plate.

“You’re too sweet,” Dean cooed. Cas rolled his eyes.

When they finished, they bought several cards each and found three seats in the playing area in time for the games to begin. Dean was surprised at how competitive the atmosphere was. When numbers were called, he watched the women and men press bright spots onto the multiple cards arrayed before them with their daubers (Cas did show Dean his dauber, and a dauber was not nearly as exciting as Cas made it sound, unfortunately). Dean had a small set of cards, and Cas helped Rosemarie with her cards when she needed it while also playing his own. Soon, he found himself caught up in the action, and was genuinely a little disappointed when someone else called out “Bingo!” Everyone applauded and set up for the next round.

During the break, several people came to speak to Rosemarie and Cas. It seemed Cas was well-loved (of course), and he gave several affectionate hugs to Rosemarie’s friends. Dean found himself caught up in the glow that was Cas, as he often did these days, and didn’t hear Cas speak to him until he touched him lightly on the shoulder. Dean stood to greet several women who were watching him kindly and a little curiously. He put on a charming, polite-boy smile. He didn’t have a grandmother, but he knew how to behave.

“And who is this?” several asked.

“This is Dean,” Cas smiled as he gestured toward him. “Dean, these are some of Gram’s friends.”

Greetings and exclamations of “Aren’t you cute!” filled Dean’s ears and heart, and he blushed at the attention. He gave a little wave.

“Are you Castiel’s new beau, or just a friend?” one of the women asked Dean.

Dean was going to answer – how, he wasn’t sure. He saw Cas glance at him out of the corner of his eye. A quick, unreadable look passed over Cas’ face before he straightened up and grinned, saying, “He’s my _Dean_ , and that’s all you need to know, Jeannine.” He laughed and wagged a finger, saying, “I know you’re a gossip!” before kissing her cheek. Dean felt his own cheeks heat up again.

“And I know you’re an eligible bachelor who’s been alone far too long!” Jeannine countered as she patted his arm. “This one seems very nice, coming to bingo with you and Rosemarie. And Rosemarie has gushed about him! That last one I met at that party…”

“Yes, I know, I know. Dean is nothing like Michael, believe me. Now, while you all gossip about me and my tragic love life, I need to head up to the stage. The next round is starting.” He turned to Dean. “I call the numbers sometimes so Bill and Nancy get a chance to play at least one round,” he said in explanation. Dean smiled after him as he watched him walk over to the stage. He waved goodbye to the still-curious ladies, who then turned to take their seats. Sitting next to Rosemarie, he noticed she didn’t have her dauber in her hand.

“What’s up, Gram? Not playing this round?”

“No,” she answered slowly. “I don’t usually play when Castiel is calling the numbers, since I can’t see the cards well. Don’t want to waste my time and money if I miss half the numbers because I can’t see the damn things.”

Dean tutted in response. “Hey, no need to skip out. I’ll make sure you get all your numbers.” He leaned closer to her ear. “I won’t even cheat unless you want me to,” he teased. She laughed and picked up her dauber, taking and holding his hand with her free hand. Dean felt happy and accepted, like she’d adopted Dean as one of her own. Hell, maybe she had.

Cas had once joked that he was “the most popular guy at bingo night,” and Dean could understand why. Cas had joked it was because he was “young blood,” but really it was because he was kind, helpful, jocular with the men, sweet and a little flirty with the women, and his deep voice calling out the numbers made a simple game a hell of a lot more interesting. He made jokes like calling out “Bi” instead of B1 or combinations that didn’t exist like “R2D2,” and he called out people in the audience and told stories or teased them good-naturedly, never maliciously. In short, he made it fun and put everyone at ease. Dean wondered how the man could be any more perfect, and how the hell he got so lucky to have him in his life, whatever they were. Cas eventually noticed that Dean was helping his grandmother, and warm, fond smiles passed between them.

By the end of the evening, Dean had become pretty popular himself, and received several invitations to come back and play any time. He marveled at how accepting they’d been, and he guessed that was due in no small part to Cas and Rosemarie, who were clearly very loved. The ride home was comfortably quiet, Gram dozing lightly in the front seat on the jacket Cas had tucked between her head and the window. Dean thought to himself that yeah, he was definitely falling for the guy, hard.

Dean stayed at the Novaks’ until Cas got his grandmother safely into bed and came back to say goodbye. He padded quietly across the floor in socked feet. Dean thought it was kind of adorable. Cas’ eyes sparkled in the dim light, and he gave Dean that same smile they shared earlier. It suddenly made Dean feel very shy. He smiled and glanced at the floor.

“Thank you for helping Gram, Dean,” Cas said sincerely.

Dean tried to shake it off. “No big deal, Cas.” He shifted on his feet and rubbed his arm.

“It’s a big deal to me,” Cas replied quietly. “You have a very good heart.” He stepped closer and started to bring his hand up, then dropped it quickly and instead stooped down to pick up Neige, who wrapped around his leg. “I’ll… uh, I had a good time. I’m glad you came. I’ll see you soon.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean smiled. He gave Neige a rub on the cheek with his finger as she curled comfortably in Cas’ arms, purring as he stroked her fur and kissed her head. “See you soon.”

_Lucky cat_ , Dean thought as he waved goodnight.

***

_From Dean 10:32am: I need help_

_From Gabe 10:34am: We’ve known that for years_

_From Dean 10:34am: Ha ha ha. Douche._

_From Charlie 10:35am: Whatcha need?_

_From Sam: 10:35am: What’s up?_

_From Dean 10:40am: Can you guys meet me for lunch today? I’ll buy_

_From Charlie 10:41am: Count me in!_

_From Gabe 10:41am: You had me at free._

_From Sam 10:43am: Depends on the time and whether you want Jess and the kids there. We’re at Cas’ right now._

_From Dean 10:44am: What the hell are you doing at Cas’ house??_

_From Sam 10:44am: He’s teaching Jess how to use the pottery wheel thing and I’m making handprints on stepping stones with the kids. Jealous much?_

_From Dean 10:46am: I’m not jealous, just curious_

_From Gabe 10:48am: If you ask nicely maybe you and Cas can reenact that scene from Ghost_

_From Sam 10:48am: Stop pouting, he can have other friends_

_From Dean 10:49am: I’m not pouting Sam_

_From Dean 10:49am: Ha ha ha. Why did I include you in this Gabe?_

_From Gabe 10:52am: Because you need my expertise, clearly, so either this is about my expert mixology skills or it’s about Cas_

_From Sam 10:55am: If it makes you feel better Cas is talking a lot about you. You went to play bingo last night?_

_From Dean 10:56am: Yeah we did. What’s he saying?_

_From Gabe 10:57am: You went to play bingo? This is serious_

_From Charlie 10:59am: Aww you guys are so cute! Cas told me about that too_

_From Dean 11:00am: He did? What did he say?_

_From Gabe 11:02am: Is this high school? Maybe you should pass him a note to see if he likes you. Check yes or no. What time for lunch and where?_

_From Sam 11:03am: Ha ha Dean is cute with his crush_

_From Dean 11:03am: Gabe, Sam, I hate you both. You’re uninvited. Charlie, let’s meet at 12:30 at that new brick oven place in Union Square here in Somerville_

_From Charlie 11:05am: Sounds good!_

_From Gabe 11:06am: I’m re-inviting myself. See you there_

_From Sam 11:08am: I’ll be there. Cas said he’ll drive Jess and the kids home when they’re wrapped up here._

Dean’s leg jiggled nervously as he waited at the artsy red-checked table. Charlie and Gabe arrived together, followed shortly by Sam. They ordered drinks and perused their menus quietly until the waiter came back with their beverages. He took their orders and left them to the business at hand.

“Okay, what’s with the secret society meeting?” Gabe asked.

Dean scowled at him before sighing heavily. “Guys, I don’t know what to do. Sam, you’re here because you know me best, and Charlie and Gabe, you’re here because you know Cas best. So, um… well,” he covered his face with his hands, “I kinda think maybe I might be sorta falling for Cas a little bit.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at him. He dropped his hands and looked back at them.

“Soooo, what was your first clue? Your endless pining?” Sam snarked.

“Your heart eyes when you look at him?” Charlie added.

“Constantly checking out his ass when you think no one’s looking?” Gabe leered.

“I don’t… you guys, I’m serious,” Dean whined. He laid his head on the table and covered it with his arms. Charlie rubbed his arm affectionately. “I don’t know what to do. He is literally the perfect person. I don’t deserve him, can’t hope to compare, but… ow!”

“He would be so pissed at you right now,” Charlie said as she pinched the arm she had been rubbing. “He hates it when you do that. He is not superior to you, okay? Nor does he think he is. Now, continue with your lovesick ranting.”

“I’m not lovesick,” Dean mumbled unconvincingly as he rubbed his pinched skin. “I just… Cas is so awesome in every way possible and I just don’t know how he feels about me. It’s so confusing. I mean, I know, or I’m pretty sure, he likes me as a person. We’ve talked together and worked together and just hung out, and it was awesome, but I still feel like, even though he has told me some really personal things, he’s holding back somehow. He rubbed my shoulders once but hasn’t tried to hug or kiss me, even though that’s how he greets other people. Last night I think he was going to do something but then he stopped. But he winks at me and smiles at me….” Dean paused as he thought about those smiles and what he wanted to say next.

“Yeah, not lovesick at all, clearly,” Sam teased. “I don’t suppose you’ve asked him how he feels, have you? Or is that too easy and straightforward?”

“Yeah alright, laugh it up while your brother is miserable,” Dean griped. “ _Anyway_ , no, I haven’t asked him. I’m kinda afraid I wouldn’t get an honest answer. I don’t want him to tell me he has feelings for me just so he won’t hurt _my_ feelings. And Cas hates hurting people, I can tell. He’s always so careful about that. I want him to like me for real.”

Gabriel appraised him seriously, thoughtfully. “So, you want him to want you.”

“Well, yeah.”

Their meals were delivered to their tables and they each took a couple of bites before Gabe continued, “So, him wanting you would feel pretty good, huh?”

“Well, yeah, obviously. But that’s not what this is about. I don’t want him to want me because it’s some kind of damn ego boost. I want him to want me because _he_ wants to.”

Gabe chewed and swallowed a large bite before saying casually, “He likes you, you like him. Isn’t that enough?”

Dean frowned. “No, that’s not enough! Do you think I’m only thinking of myself, here? Is that what you think? It’s important to me that he jumps into this because he _wants_ to, not because of some misplaced need to take care of me or not hurt anyone! I want him to feel good about us! I want him to be excited to be with me! I want him to give a shit about himself and what he wants, not just me!”

Charlie glanced at Gabe, and then piped up, “He likes you, Dean. Otherwise he wouldn’t bother.”

“But wouldn’t he, though? Wouldn’t he? There are ten things on that list. Wouldn’t he commit to doing all of them before just dropping me, just because he’s a nice guy? I’m the one who volunteered for the whole un-dating thing. He didn’t ask me. I mean, for all I know, he didn’t want to go with me but didn’t want to make me feel bad.” Dean slumped in his seat and tossed his pizza slice on the pan. “Shit, you don’t think he did that, do you?”

The others shook their heads.

“Gabe,” Dean continued as he sighed heavily, “I want what you have. I want what Charlie has. I want _Cas_. Not smart Cas, rich Cas, handsome Cas, generous Cas, guy-that-everyone-adores Cas, just Cas. The good and the bad, the happy and sad. All of it. I want _in_.”

Gabe and Charlie shared another look before Gabe leaned back in his chair and drawled, “Well, Dean, what happens when it all falls apart? When he pushes you away? He does that, you know.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that – he couldn’t even imagine it – so he said the first thing that came into his heart. “When he pushes, I’ll grab his arms and pull him with me. When it falls apart, I’ll put his ass in coveralls and hand him tools and we’ll build it again from the foundation up. And if he really, really doesn’t want me, I’ll be his friend.”

Gabe sighed and smiled a little. “Okay, Dean. I believe you, and I like you. So, I’m going to tell you what I’ve told no one else he’s dated – because believe me, Charlie and I have been asked plenty of times about how to get into Cas’ head, Cas’ heart, and Cas’ pants. We’ve never been asked how to get into Cas’ soul. That is what you’re asking, isn’t it?”

Dean nodded vigorously. His pizza was growing cold on the platter in front of him as he ignored it in favor of whatever words of wisdom Gabriel would impart to him.

Gabe gestured widely with his hands as he leaned back again. “Okay, so I’m going to tell you a few things about Cas. It’s your job to figure out what it all means. Fair enough?” Dean nodded again. “But, if you take this information and hurt him with it, well, we’re gonna have a problem. Alright?” Dean nodded a third time and leaned in.

“Okay, here’s what you need to know about Cas.” He held his fingers in the air to count. “Thing 1: When he was ten, he fell off his bike and broke his ankle. He walked two miles to the hospital on his busted ankle after refusing help from three different people. He tried to get the hospital bill sent to him instead of Gram and Gramps so that, quote, ‘they wouldn’t have to worry about it.’ By the way, not the last time he’s done stuff like that, either. I once found out that he’d been hospitalized with pneumonia a month after he was released. He told no one he was there. He said he’d taken a few days off by himself to rest. Made it sound like a damn vacation.”

Dean stared at Gabe, brows knitted, and waited for more information.

“Thing 2: Gramps had a hugely successful makeup company called Angel. He started it because of Gram, and he loved it. Cas grew up in it and after Gramps died Cas felt responsible so he stepped in and took over as President of the Board of Directors. Their CEO is retiring next month and they want Cas to step in as CEO too. He has to give them an answer soon. He thinks he’s going to say yes, even though Cas has never been interested in being President or CEO.”

Dean frowned. “Cas told me some of that, but not all of it.”

Gabe nodded his head. “Yeah, doesn’t surprise me. Thing 3: He hasn’t taken a vacation since Gramps died. He used to come camping with Charlie and Balth and me every September, and he used to go to some tropical locale to scuba dive sometime in the winter. He still makes plans to come with us, but he always backs out. He doesn’t even do long skiing weekends anymore. And he never complains about it.”

Dean shifted in his seat and started to feel sad.

“Thing 4: Cas always does the breaking up and never the asking out.”

This surprised and frightened Dean a bit. He grimaced.

“And finally, Thing 5: Cas won’t fall in love.”

Dean frowned again. “What do you mean, he won’t?”

Gabe explained, “He is capable, God knows he’s got the biggest heart, and he believes in love, but he refuses. He says he won’t do that to himself or someone else.”

A puzzled look crossed Dean’s face. “Won’t do that to himself or someone else? I don’t even understand how he would think him being in love with someone would be a punishment for them. I think it would be… awesome to be loved by him.”

“I know you do,” Gabe replied, uncharacteristically softer and subdued. “That’s why I’m telling you all this, man. If you can cut through all of these things, I think you guys could have something really special.”

“Seems like you both deserve it,” Sam mused.

“Yeah.” The table was lost in quiet reflection until Dean’s phone buzzed. He noticed he missed a previous text and now had a new one. He looked at the new one first.

_From Cas 2:17pm: I saw Raiders of the Lost Ark on TV and thought of you. ;) Hope you’re having a good day._ Dean blushed. He had once told Cas offhandedly that he once wanted to grow up to be Indiana Jones and later just wanted him in his bed. He remembered. Dean scrolled to the earlier text.

_From Cas 11:59am: Your niece and nephew painted both me and my studio some lovely new colors._ The message had a photo attached of Cas and Jess sitting on the floor with Sam and Jess’ kids. They’d been finger painting. Cas was covered in clay and in red and yellow paint, as were the papers on the floor and the twins. Jess was considerably neater. Cas had a huge grin on his face and a blue mustache painted under his nose that almost matched his eyes. Dean laughed loudly at the photo as it tugged at his heart. He showed it to the others, then sent it to Sam at his request. As the others finished their meals, Dean zoomed in on Cas’ face and took a screenshot, then changed the photo on Cas’ contact from the Miata to the mustache face. Finally, he responded to Cas’ last message with a huge grin he couldn’t keep concealed.

_From Dean 2:22pm: Funny, I was just thinking about you. Hope you’re having a good day too ;)_

 


	8. Chapter 8

Cas was busy over the next couple of weeks, as was Dean, so they didn’t get to see each other. It gave Dean a lot of time to think about what Gabe told him – the Things, with a capital T, as they’d come to be known in his head. He wasn’t really sure he’d sorted them out yet, or knew what to do with them. There was pressure, though – self-imposed, perhaps, but pressure all the same. There were only three items left on the un-dating list, and Dean had no idea what would happen after that, especially if he didn’t figure out what these Things meant. He knew there was some deeper meaning – they were telling him about what makes Cas tick. But he was never great at figuring out why people did what they did.

On a Thursday night after work in the middle of August, Dean went to the gym with Sam and decided to press him for his insights. As he spotted Sam at one of the weightlifting stations, he asked him his thoughts.

“So, what do you think the Things mean? That stuff Gabe said about Cas?” Dean tried to ask nonchalantly, but Sam saw through him.

“Dude, I don’t really know. Do you remember them? It’s been a couple of weeks. I’m a little fuzzy on them.”

He rolled his eyes at his brother. Of course Dean remembered them. He remembered every detail. He’d been rolling them around since he heard them. He had some theories, but he wasn’t sure if he was – what was the word therapists on talk shows used? – projecting his own crap and making it seem like it was Cas’ stuff too. Dean explained all of them, giving Sam time to process them and finish lifting before switching spots with him and letting him talk while Dean lifted.

“Okay, well, the first thing with the bike and not letting anyone help? Maybe he didn’t want to get in trouble. Does he have a thing about getting in trouble?”

“Nah, doesn’t sound like him. I think he doesn’t like asking people for help. Remember the pneumonia thing? That’s not really something that would get you into trouble. Gram said he’s really independent.”

“Okay, so he doesn’t like to rely on people. Independent. Maybe he’s afraid someone will try to control him.”

“Maybe.”

“So the second thing, he probably feels like he’d be letting his grandfather down if he didn’t take over. They were close, right?” Dean agreed. It was what he’d thought, too.

“Third thing, no vacation. Workaholic?”

It didn’t feel quite right to Dean. “No, I think maybe that’s more about not wanting to leave Gram. She relies a lot on him. He feels like he can’t leave. He’s responsible. And Gabe said something about how he never complains about it, which made me think that he never complains about anything, which, you know, everyone complains about something, but I’ve never heard him complain to anyone except Gabe in the bar when we met. Kinda wonder if he feels resentful sometimes?”

Sam nodded. “Could be. It’s gotta be hard to be a young, single rich guy with the world at your feet and have to take care of your grandmother.”

Dean grunted through the last of his lifts. “Maybe he feels resentful, but then he feels guilty, like he shouldn’t complain because they took care of him, gave him everything he could ever want, you know? He talks about being grateful a lot.” Sam hummed in agreement. They walked to the elliptical machines and continued talking.

“The fourth and fifth ones, man, they’ve gotta be related. Maybe he doesn’t like intimacy?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know. If he never asks anyone out, he can’t get rejected. If he always breaks up with someone first, he can’t get rejected because he’s doing the rejecting. If he refuses to fall in love, he can’t get close enough to get rejected and it can’t hurt. So it’s gotta be about rejection, right?”

“Makes sense to me. Has he been rejected a lot?”

“Not that I know of. He said the breakup with his first girlfriend hurt, and the first boy he was interested in didn’t like him that way and gave him crap for it, but it didn’t seem like those were enough… to… aw, crap.”

“What?”

“His parents, like his real parents… that could screw up a kid’s head, right? Your mom leaving you and your dad not giving a crap about you?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Dean. We kinda lived that one.”

“Yeah.” He stopped the machine and stepped down. “Yeah. Oh, man. He was an only child, too. No one his age, living the same thing, to share all that crap with and help him know it wasn’t his fault. And his grandparents loved him, but it’s not the same.” He heaved a sigh, then his face brightened and he slapped Sam on the back. “I know what I’m gonna do, Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He typed a text message to Gabriel.

Sam smiled and shook his head as he watched Dean’s face grow more hopeful. “I don’t know why you called me about this. Looks like you knew the answers all along.”

“Yeah, I guess I just needed to talk them out with someone,” he said. His phone chirped a response from Gabriel:

_From Gabe 5:54pm: Yes, absolutely I’ll stay with her. I’ll call someone to cover me. Great idea, Deano._

“Yes!” Dean grinned at his phone. He typed a message to Cas.

_From Dean 5:56pm: Wanna have a sleepover?_

***

Cas was standing at his door in flip flops, tan cargo shorts, and a teal shirt with a huge blue diving hole and “Belize” across the chest that brought out his eyes. He had his overnight bag slung over his right shoulder and a rolled-up sleeping bag tucked between his left arm and torso. His eyes shone with excitement and his smile was huge and bright. Dean licked his lips and swallowed his nervous energy. Cas was at his house, spending the night.

“Hello Dean,” he beamed. Dean’s heart fluttered.

“Hey man, come on in,” Dean said as he swung the door open.

“Nice place,” Cas said as he looked around and dropped his things by the couch.

“Yeah, it’s alright. Not as nice as yours.”

Cas waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t do that. This is a very nice home you’ve made for yourself. I can see a lot of ‘you’ here.”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda falling apart…”

“Dean. Are we going to whip out our dicks and compare those next? Because that’s what it feels like. It’s not a contest. Stop being insecure.” Cas’ words were firm but his tone was playful.

Dean lightened. “Well gee, I was going to save the dick whipping for later.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you used to do when you invited a friend to sleep over?” Dean began to blush but a teasing grin broke out onto Cas’ face and Dean relaxed.

“Shut up. You hungry? Supper’s ready.” He led Cas to his kitchen table. A very familiar scent Cas hadn’t smelled in years filled his nose, and was confirmed by the bowls Dean set in front of two chairs.

“Spaghetti-Os?” Cas asked in surprise. Dean’s stomach started to drop as he began to second-guess himself. Maybe recreating a kid’s sleepover was stupid. But he had no further time or need to overthink as Cas exclaimed, “I love it! I haven’t had these in forever! And you got the ones with meatballs!” Cas sat down eagerly and waited for Dean to sit with him.

“Only the best dinner for our un-date,” Dean winked as he parroted the words Cas had said to him at bingo night. Cas laughed and Dean relaxed and sat down, happy that Cas seemed to approve.

They ate Spaghetti-Os and folded bread and butter sandwiches on white bread and drank Kool-Aid. They played Go Fish and Uno and ate ice cream for dessert. They built a pillow fort in the living room and played video games while they downed popcorn and soda. They watched a thunderstorm arrive from the west and ran out into it with armfuls of towels when Cas remembered he left the windows in his car open. Cas forgot himself and took Dean’s hand and they ran and jumped in the huge puddles in the parking lot. They kicked water at each other and tried to wrestle each other into the largest, deepest puddle and realized they were too evenly matched. They took separate showers and changed into superhero pajamas (Batman for Dean, Superman for Cas) that Cas brought for them both because “it’s not a proper sleepover if you don’t wear superhero pajamas, Dean.” They opened the sliding glass door to the tiny balcony and let the rain-scented summer air fill the room as they set up their sleeping bags in the fort. They told ghost stories with flashlights under their faces and laughed at how they could’ve ever found those stories scary.

“Hey Dean?” Cas said tentatively into the dark. The power was out because of the storm so the apartment was darker than usual. They were lying on top of their sleeping bags, too hot to actually climb into them.

“Yeah Cas?” Dean said quietly. The entire night had gone so well, and Cas was _right there_ ; he was afraid if he spoke too loud the spell would be broken.

“This was really great. Thank you.”

Dean could feel himself blush and his eyes prickled a little. He was grateful Cas couldn’t see that he was becoming stupidly emotional over just a thank you and a tone of voice. Cas sounded so sincere and awestruck, like no one had ever done something so nice for him.

“No problem, Cas. And it’s not over yet. We have sugary cereal and Saturday morning cartoons to watch.”

“That sounds good.” Dean could tell by his voice that he was smiling.

They were silent for a little while longer until Dean said, “Hey, you ever been to Belize? I noticed your shirt when you came in.” When Cas confirmed that he had been scuba diving there, several times, Dean asked him about it, then about the other vacations he’d been on. Cas happily chatted about some of the things he’d seen and done. Dean casually asked him where he was vacationing next.

“I really don’t know. Camping, maybe. I haven’t been on a vacation in a long time.”

Dean feigned surprise. “Why not?”

“Too much to do,” he said a little wistfully.

“Seems like that’s a good reason to take a vacation.”

Cas chuckled sadly. “Yes, I suppose. But leaving Gram for a week or two would be hard. She needs quite a bit of support, even if it doesn’t look like it. I would need to get her care.”

“You could hire professionals.”

“Yes, but those arrangements sometimes fall through, and I wouldn’t be here to fix it.”

“You have family and friends,” Dean said gently.

He sighed. “Yes, I know. But it is a lot of strain for someone for a week.”

“So it must be a lot of strain for you, right? You do it all the time. You live it.”

“She’s not a burden,” Cas said with a little edge to his voice.

“I didn’t say she was,” Dean continued softly, trying not to spook or anger Cas but wanting to get his point across. He nudged his hand over so he was just grazing Cas’ pinky. He made it seem like it was an accidental touch so he could give Cas the opportunity to move his hand. He didn’t. “I’m just saying that it can be hard to take care of someone who needs a lot of care. I mean, I took care of my dad a lot when he was drinking, and Sammy too, because Dad was passed out or gone sometimes. Toward the end of his life I took care of him all the time. He died at home. I felt resentful sometimes, you know? I was a kid, and I was saddled with all this responsibility. I didn’t get to do the stuff I wanted to. You’re at the prime of your life and saddled with the same thing. Your life isn’t really yours. Don’t you ever feel a little resentful?”

“No,” Cas said harshly, but then, more softly with a labored sigh, “no, not exactly.”

Dean moved his hand closer and slid his pinky under Cas’. “It would be okay if you did. You’re human. It doesn’t mean you don’t love her or you aren’t grateful. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“It kind of does make me a bad person,” he said.

Dean turned his body toward Cas and lay on his side. He slid his hand away from Cas’ and placed it on Cas’ forearm. He couldn’t see his face in the dark, but he knew Cas was facing him because he could hear him breathing. He had the man’s attention. “Hey,” he said gently. “That’s my Cas you’re talking about. No one talks about Cas that way and gets away with it, so knock it off.” He could feel a puff of breath that told him Cas probably smiled at that. “Listen, no one expects you to do it all. Gram loves you, Gabe and Charlie and Balthazar love you, and I… well, I think you’re alright,” he teased as he squeezed his arm. He wasn’t sure how much of himself he should reveal just yet. “We’re all willing to help. And you know, Gabe and Charlie miss going camping with you.”

“I miss camping with them,” he murmured.

“So maybe you should go.”

They were silent for a while. Dean hung onto Cas’ arm.

“I… do, sometimes. Feel a little stuck,” Cas admitted. “Not all the time, but… sometimes.”

“Yeah. I know,” Dean whispered. He rubbed his arm gently in comfort.

“In other situations, too,” Cas continued hesitantly.

“Your grandfather’s business stuff?” Dean guessed. Cas had told him enough so that he felt he could guess without it becoming obvious.

“Yeah,” Cas breathed. They hung in silence for a while until Cas resumed speaking. “Did I tell you they want me to be CEO?”

“No, you didn’t. Do you want to be?”

Silence.

“Forget the shoulds for a minute. What do you want, Cas?”

He chuckled. “I feel my own words are being used against me.”

Dean chuckled in response. “You caught me. Now answer the question.”

Cas shifted his body and Dean let his hand fall away from his arm. He sensed Cas probably needed some space.

“I’ve done a lot of good work for Angel, I think.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you have. You’ve made the products more environmentally friendly, you hired more women into the company and put them in executive positions, and you had some cool marketing campaigns about inclusivity and acceptance.”

“Those things were important to me.”

“Yeah. And they were great.” Dean nudged Cas’ elbow with his own. “I especially liked the ad where you were half-naked.” Cas didn’t really like being the “face” of the company, but he’d been in a few ads over the years thanks to both his family connections and his stunning looks and smoky voice. As part of their “Wear It for You” campaign, Cas had appeared as the face of the company, saying “Wear it for you” at the beginning of the TV ad before several individuals explained why they wear makeup. He appeared again at the end saying “Or don’t wear it at all” with his shirt and tie open to reveal his bare chest and his hipbones peeking out just at the bottom of the screen, insinuating he had nothing on his bottom half. Dean had found it online and teased Cas mercilessly about it but secretly found it totally hot.

“Yes, thank you, I just love it when you tease me about that one,” he said, and Dean could hear the eye roll in his voice. “I liked some of the others better.”

“Yes, I know, Mr. Champion of Humanity,” Dean joked. Two of Cas’ favorites were the one that featured women with disabilities and the one that featured individuals who identified in a variety of ways: pansexual, asexual, et cetera. Cas knew that Dean’s teasing was affectionate and that Dean truly appreciated Cas’ openness and acceptance of people.

“You have done some good work,” Dean continued gently but seriously. “Your grandfather would be so proud of you. You’ve brought in people who love the work and the message. They have your grandfather’s passion for the work and your passion for making the world a little better. They want to do the work. That’s what your grandfather wanted, right? For his business to live on and do good things for people, with people who love doing it? You trust the people who work for you – the people you put in charge – to do that. So I’ll ask you again. What do _you_ want, Cas?”

Dean could feel the man next to him trembling, could hear his breath hitch, could feel the heat of sweat and restraint radiating off Cas’ body. He waited.

“I…” Silence. More silence.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“I… I think I want to leave,” Cas whispered finally.

Now Dean’s breath hitched. Had he pushed him too far? “You want to leave?” he echoed.

“Yes. I think I want to leave the company.”

Dean exhaled and relaxed. Cas had meant he wanted to leave Angel, not Dean’s apartment. He could hear the little spark of joy and hope in Cas’ voice. “Say it, Cas,” he encouraged. “Say it like you mean it.”

Cas’ voice became louder and more animated. “I want to leave. I want to sell the company to them and let it go. This was my grandfather’s baby, not mine. I love the company and it’s been an important part of my life, but… it’s time to do something else, isn’t it, Dean?”

Dean smiled widely even though Cas couldn’t see him. “Maybe it is, Cas. You get to decide that. It’s your life.”

“I’m… I’m going to resign. Yeah. I’m resigning, Dean. I mean, I have to give notice and I’ll want to help them through the transition but…” Cas started to laugh. “Oh my God, Dean, why didn’t I think I could do this? Can I do this?”

“Hell yeah you can do this, Cas.”

“They’re gonna lose their shit,” Cas said, at once gleeful and scared. “They’re gonna…”

“Hey, don’t talk yourself out of it,” Dean chided. “This is about what you want, not anyone else. They all get to choose whether they are there. You can, too. You’ve done more than you needed to. You’ve been a good boss.” He placed his hand on Cas’ arm again. “And you’ve been a good son, Cas.”

Dean listened to Cas’ shallow breathing. “Don’t make me cry, asshole,” Cas rasped.

“I would never do that,” Dean said in mock offense. “Castiel Novak is a man’s man. He doesn’t show emotion, probably doesn’t even have them. He doesn’t need vacations and he doesn’t need help. He’s perfect and can do anything, all by himself and without complaint. Except beat me at Halo.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Cas said with a smile as he shoved Dean, who laughed at him and sent up a secret prayer of thanks that Cas took that well. “I’m not perfect.”

“Ah, so you admit it!”

“I never said I was perfect.”

Dean quickly squeezed the arm he was still holding. “I’m kidding.”

“I know,” Cas said. He sighed heavily. “But you’re right about some of it.”

“About what? I want to know because I love being right.”

Cas snickered. “I probably do need a vacation. And I do need help sometimes. I just... don’t ask. But I have plenty of emotions, thanks. An overabundance.”

“I know, Cas,” Dean said gently. “I just wish you took care of yourself the way you take care of everyone else. And maybe let other people take care of you sometimes too. Hmm?” He let his knuckles run back and forth across Cas’ arm.

“Hmm. Maybe certain people,” Cas murmured. They lay quietly for a while, Dean stroking Cas’ arm, until Dean heard the deep, rhythmic breathing of sleep. He listened and thought about how much Cas had opened up tonight. He had hope.

Dean was just dropping off to sleep when the lights flickered on and the microwave beeped loudly. The power had come back on. He peeked over at Cas’ face, so peaceful and relaxed on his pillow. Yeah, he could get used to waking up to that face. It took a lot of restraint not to kiss those perfect lips. He got up and turned off the light in the living room, then lay back down and whispered good night to Cas.

Light filtered through Dean’s eyelids as he walked the line between sleep and wakefulness. He started to question his own memory of turning off the lamp when he realized it must be sunlight streaming through the balcony door. It was always bright in the living room in the morning. He was about to drift away again when something else captured his attention: fingers. Impossibly soft fingers lightly moving his hair around, as if styling it. An unbearably tender, feather-light touch along his ear to the bolt of his jaw. A pause. A sigh. Fingers moving quickly away as if they’ve done something forbidden. A gaze leveled onto his face, indecipherable since Dean couldn’t actually see it, but merely felt its warmth. But he knew it was affectionate, fond, caring. It radiated off the man and was absorbed hungrily by Dean’s soul. And his body. Uh oh. Dean tried to stay calm and unmoving, hoping Cas would touch him again. He felt him roll over and could tell his back was to him now. Damn.

Cas stepped out of the pillow fort, and Dean used that time to wake himself up and calm his body down. Normal morning body reaction or not, he didn’t want Cas to see this and think he caused it. He did, of course, but he didn’t want Cas to think he’d done something wrong or over the line. What he really wanted was for Cas to come back into the fort, realize he wanted Dean just as much as Dean wanted him, and turn this sleepover decidedly _not_ family-friendly. However, he thought he made some inroads with Cas last night and he didn’t want to scare the guy off.

Dean got up and grabbed his robe from his bedroom even though it was too hot to wear one. He walked into the kitchen, where he started pulling cereal boxes out of the cabinet and lining them up on the top of the breakfast bar.

“What do we have here?” Cas rumbled closely behind him and, no, that was not helping his body calm down at all. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cas, with his wrinkled Superman shirt that made his half-lidded eyes a ridiculous blue and his dark hair that was sticking out in tiny spikes all over his head, and he quickly tried to cover his desire with humor.

“All the sugar you could possibly need on a Saturday morning,” he said a little too enthusiastically.

Cas scanned the choices and broke into a wide grin upon seeing the Lucky Charms. “I used to love these,” he gushed. “When I was little Gramps told me that when I was a grownup I’d get lucky if I ate these every morning. Little did I know what ‘get lucky’ actually meant,” he smirked. Dean laughed and folded his arms across his chest as he casually stood behind the bar, hiding his lower half.

“Your grandpa was a dirty old man,” Dean joked, and Cas laughed.

“Yeah, not much was verboten in our household. We talked about it all – sex, drugs and rock and roll, as it were. We had all kinds of people visit our house – all good people, but just people from all walks of life. One time for Thanksgiving we had a drag queen, a homeless guy who hung out around Gramps’ office building, and the CEO of Maybelline.”

“Wow,” Dean laughed, “that must’ve been quite the meal.”

“Oh, it was. The drag queen made an apple pie that was out of this world.”

For some reason, that tickled Dean’s funny bone, and he laughed until he couldn’t breathe. Cas laughed with him, both at the absurdity of it all and at Dean’s giddiness.

When Dean calmed down, they poured heaping helpings of cereal into their bowls and sat on the living room floor. Dean found some old cartoons and turned back to Cas. He said, “Your grandparents were pretty open for their generation.”

“Yeah. I was really fortunate. When I was 14 I told them I was ‘coming out of the closet’ – yeah, I phrased it like that, don’t judge – and my grandfather said, ‘Well go back in and clean it before you come out again. Your room’s a mess. And don’t go into mine.’” Dean snorted as Cas chuckled at the memory. “Little did he know I’d already been in it years ago and wished I hadn’t. There are some things you shouldn’t know about the people who are raising you. I wanted to burn my eyes out.”

“Oh no, what did you find?”

“Toys. And lacy underwear that clearly was too big to be my grandmother’s.”

Dean howled with laughter again before he said, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“No, of course not,” Cas agreed. “I’m pretty open-minded in that regard. And did you mean to sound just like Jerry Seinfeld when you said that?”

“Dude, I didn’t even realize! I loved that episode, though.”

“Me too,” Cas mumbled around a bite of cereal. “And did you see the one…”

Their easy conversation carried on until noon, when Cas had to get back home to Gram so that Gabriel could leave and get some stuff done before he had to work at the bar. Saturday nights were usually the busiest.

“Well,” Cas said as he stood at the door, bags in hand.

“Well,” Dean replied, shuffling his feet.

“Thank you for this un-date, Dean. You made a great choice. I loved it,” Cas said shyly.

Dean smiled. “Me too, man.”

“So…” Cas continued hesitantly. “Only two more un-dates, huh?”

Dean’s smile wavered a little. “Yeah. The yardwork and your choice. Crazy, huh? Time’s gone by fast.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Cas inhaled deeply. “Well, I should go,” he said in a rush. “Let me know when you’re free for the yardwork un-date. The grass is looking a little shaggy.” The shyness disappeared and was replaced by Cas’ characteristic flirtatious twinkle. He winked at Dean. “I could use some help from a hot gardener.”

Dean’s skin flushed brightly. “Well, let me know when you find one,” he replied self-deprecatingly.

“Oh, I already have,” Cas purred as his eyes raked up and down Dean’s body. He leaned in close to the slightly taller man, as if to tell him a secret. “His name is Pierre and he works at my house on Sundays. He wears dirty jeans and a beret.”

Dean stifled a laugh as he tried to play along with Cas’ joke. “You know, as a professional landscaper, I think it’s odd that he wears a beret. Are you sure he’s a real gardener?”

“Mmm,” Cas purred again, and that sound sent waves of pleasure through Dean’s blood, “I don’t really care if he’s a real gardener or not.”

That punched a laugh out of Dean, and Cas’ façade crumbled as he joined in the laughter. “See ya, Dean. Thanks again,” he smiled, bashful once again. He turned and jogged down the stairs. Realizing that under his robe he was still wearing the pajamas Cas loaned him, he ran down the stairs after him, catching him in the parking lot.

“Hey,” he called breathlessly. He stopped in front of him and opened his robe. Cas’ eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly.

“That’s not really how you flash someone, Dean.”

Dean blushed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not… You want your pajamas back?”

“Um, right here and now, Dean?”

Dean blushed again. “Maybe not here and now… I mean do you want me to give them to you before you leave? I can go upstairs and change real quick.”

Cas waved his hand dismissively. “If you don’t want them you can give them back to me the next time you see me.” He walked up to Dean until he was an inch or two away from his face and, tilting his head, whispered huskily, “Unwashed.”

Dean gulped and stared at him with wide eyes.

Cas broke into a playful smile and backed away. “No, it’s fine, Dean. You can keep them.”

“Friggin’ asshole. Save it for Pierre, would ya?” Dean smirked as he gave Cas a light shove on the shoulder. Cas laughed brightly. God, he loved that laugh.

“Bye Dean!” Cas called as he lowered the top of the Miata and drove away, messy hair blowing in the wind and sun.

He waved after him and stood until Cas pulled onto the street and out of sight.

“Best un-date ever,” he murmured to himself as he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his robe. He composed a text to Jess.

_From Dean 12:22pm: Where can I buy a men’s beret?_

_From Jess 12:23pm: ???_

 


	9. Chapter 9

Dean had been whistling happy tunes all week long. Even things that would’ve usually set him off, like getting sunburned because he forgot his sunscreen and was too stubborn to ask someone else for some or getting an order of patio stone later than expected, he took in stride. His employees were infinitely grateful for his good mood. One of them told him “love suits you” and he didn’t even argue, correct, or punch him.

The reason Dean was ridiculously happy was because he and Cas had been their usual selves, texting and chatting, but also because Cas had called an emergency board meeting via Skype and had let Angel Cosmetics know that he was tendering his resignation. He had even let Dean be there when he did it, albeit off camera. Dean had wished that Cas had asked him to be there rather than Dean asking Cas if he could be there, but he figured at least Cas had said yes and that was a step in the right direction. The board had been very supportive and the women Cas wanted to take over, Jody and Donna, were beside themselves. Dean took him out to dinner that night to celebrate and told him he was proud of him, which struck Cas speechless and shy yet again. It was an interesting look for the man. Now it was Sunday and Dean was going to Cas’ for their second-to-last official un-date.

Cas burst into laughter when he opened the door and saw Dean on the other side.

“Bonjour, monsieur Cas. I am here to tend to your gardens,” Dean said with a fake French accent as he wiggled his eyebrows. He was wearing dirty, holey jeans, a super-tight black t-shirt, and a black beret he and Jess managed to find at a specialty store in Boston.

Cas cleared his throat and played along. “Bonjour, Pierre,” he said in a smoky voice. “Comment ça va? Tu es très beau aujourd’hui.”

Because he had no idea what Cas said, he replied in his accent, “I brought my own hose” and wiggled his brows again. Cas raised his eyebrows and he smirked.

“D’accord, mais ne dis rien à mon petit ami Dean,” he said, then stopped cold and blushed furiously, apologizing as he backed up to let Dean inside. Dean had no idea what just happened, but Cas was clearly flustered.

“You okay?” he said, dropping the accent.

“Yeah, fine, c’mon,” he said before rushing toward the back of the house. Dean started to follow, a confused look on his face. He looked over at Gram, who had been straightening out the magazines in the foyer, and she smiled.

“You two are very cute,” she said slowly. She seemed a little more tired today.

“What did he say to me?”

“He said you were very handsome today.”

“Oh.” Dean warmed at the unexpected compliment. He hadn’t been sure Cas found him attractive, but apparently he did.

“He also called you his boyfriend.”

“…He did?”

“Well, you made that joke and he said not to tell his boyfriend Dean.”

Holy shit. No wonder Cas was freaking out. Had he meant to call him that? Maybe he didn’t and now he felt weird about it. Or maybe he _did_ and he felt weird about it. He ran out to talk to Cas, but Cas had collected himself by the time Dean reached the shed and his face was once again calm and open. Dean probably lost the moment. He tried to shrug it off.

The day was overcast, so at least Dean’s sunburn wouldn’t get too aggravated. He’d covered up just in case, since burns were possible even in overcast weather, as he liked to remind Cas. They talked amiably about anything and everything until the last of the work was done, then they sat on the deck and cracked open a couple of beers.

“What was that all about?” Dean dared to ask as they settled into the comfortable deck chairs. Cas gave him a questioning look. Dean pressed on. “The boyfriend comment.”

“Oh,” Cas said and looked away. “Sorry. I, uh, didn’t know you understood that.”

“I didn’t. Gram told me.” Cas grunted in response but didn’t elaborate so Dean tried again. “Are we boyfriends, Cas?”

“I… um, I don’t know. We’ve never defined it, so I guess that means we aren’t.”

Dean swallowed around the nervousness pulsing in his throat. “Um, do you want to be?”

A minute that felt like an eternity passed before Cas murmured, “I don’t think that would be wise.”

Panic and disappointment swirled in Dean’s gut. He tried to curb the swell so he wouldn’t vomit. “Why not?” he asked in a low voice.

“I’m not a very good boyfriend, I’m told.”

“Told by who?” Dean spat. He was becoming angry.

“Everyone.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“My exes, my friends…”

“You’ve got some shitty friends if they say that about you.”

“Gabe and Charlie are not shitty friends.”

“They said that?”

“They say I ‘close myself off emotionally,’ that I ‘don’t let people in.’ Other people have called me ‘fake,’ ‘cold,’ ‘a tease,’ ‘weak,’ ‘mama’s boy’… shall I go on?” Cas said gloomily.

“No, Cas. None of that is true. Well, maybe the not letting people in thing.”

“Yes, that probably is true. So, as you see, bad boyfriend material.”

“So why do you keep trying?”

“Hope springs eternal, Dean.”

“So maybe put your hope in me, Cas.” Cas, who’d been talking to his beer bottle rather than Dean, whipped his head up and around until he caught Dean’s eyes. The fear in Cas’ eyes was obvious, but so was something else – a tiny glimmer of desire, of optimism. Dean wanted so badly to fan that glimmer into a flame, but instead he held his breath and waited.

“I… I can’t allow myself to do that. Hope is a dangerous thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be if you put your hope in the right person.”

“I wouldn’t know. Not romantically, anyway.”

“You put your hope in Michael, didn’t you? Or Meg?”

“ _No_ ,” Cas hissed. “Certainly not him. No one.”

“You’ve never fallen in love with someone enough to rely on them? Trust them? Hope?”

Cas paused and seemed to choose his words carefully. “I never fell in love… with any of my exes.”

Dean sighed heavily. The happiness of the last week was fading, but he was determined to talk about this. He knew it would be hard for Cas. “Okay, so you still haven’t answered me. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I think I already answered…”

“No, you said you didn’t think it would be wise. That doesn’t tell me whether you want to be.”

“Dean…”

“What do you want, Cas?”

“I’ve already…”

“What do you _want_ , Cas?” Dean shouted.

“It doesn’t matter what I want!”

“It matters to me!”

“You know what I want, Dean?” he bellowed. “I want to not have any fucking trust issues. I want to believe that you’ll be there no matter what. I want to let you in, I really do, because you are so fucking amazing and perfect for me and I have never met anyone like you and I’ve never felt this way about anyone. But that just makes this all the more dangerous for both of us. I don’t want to hurt you when I inevitably push you away because I get scared. So just leave now before we both get hurt.” He choked back a sob. “Please, Dean.” His normally calm, cool and collected Cas was torn and frayed, struggling to keep himself together. Dean felt horrible that Cas was so sad, but hopeful that they could get through this, because Cas let him in. Cas let him see him as he never had before, and probably very few had before. It was humbling, and even though Cas was practically shoving him out the door, he’d never felt closer to him.

“That’s all well and good, Cas,” Dean said softly. “But you haven’t answered my question. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“ _Yes_ , Dean, but I told you…”

“Good. That’s all I needed to know.”

“I’m going to push you away,” Cas said, his voice so small it broke Dean’s heart.

“And I’ll pull you with me,” Dean replied as he took his hand. “And when you stop pushing, we’ll take a vacation and go for a nice long walk on the beach drinking piña coladas after a ridiculously priced dinner.” The corners of Cas’ mouth upturned slightly despite himself. “Or we’ll clean the gutters and then curl up on the couch and I’ll fall asleep to some boring-ass documentary you want to watch. It doesn’t matter. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’m not letting you go. So just keep pushing. Push until you can’t push anymore. I can take it. And I’m still going to be there when you’re done.” He kissed Cas’ hand and carded his fingers through his dark hair before he walked back through the house and left.

***

Dean began to second-guess himself after the fourth day of silence from Cas. Usually his days were filled with texts back and forth between them, but now the texts were one-sided. Every day without fail, Dean sent him texts just saying he was thinking about him or he saw something that reminded him of him or bitching about whatever came up that day. He knew they were being read, at least, which gave him some comfort.

He had regular contact with Charlie, who told him to hang in there. He had dinner with Jess, Sam, and the kids after a long day at a work site. He had a poker night with Benny, Adam, Bobby, and Gabe. Gabe told him to keep fighting the good fight and that this was probably the best thing for him and, by the way, Cas looked like shit. Dean supposed that was supposed to make him feel better. It didn’t, really, but he hoped it meant Cas was working through some things.

After the tenth day of silence he got a call – not from Cas, but from Gabe. He set the wheelbarrow down and wiped the sweat from his forehead before he picked up.

“Hey Gabe, what’s up?”

“Hey. They took Gram by ambulance to the ER a few minutes ago. Cas called me. He sounded really calm, Dean. _Really_ calm.”

Fear trickled down Dean’s chest. A too-calm Cas wasn’t good. “Shit. Where?”

“Tufts Medical Center. They have a special stroke center there that Gram went to last time.”

“I’m on my way.” Dean ended the call and left the wheelbarrow where it was. “Sam!” he called across the yard as he started running toward him. “Keys!”

Sam hadn’t seen his brother so frantic in a long time. He ran to meet him. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he dug the keys from his pocket.

“It’s Cas… Gram…”

“Okay, Dean, it’s okay, come on. I’ll drive.”

Dean climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and waited for Sam to explain things to Benny. His head was swimming. Was she okay? Was it another stroke? A bad one? Sam was blessedly silent as they drove to Tufts. He drove Dean straight to the entrance while Benny, who had followed them over to the hospital in Dean’s car, parked and made his way to the truck.

“Call me when you know more, okay? And give Cas our love.”

“I will, Sammy,” he said as he slammed the door and hurried inside.

After a few minutes he was able to find the waiting area and Cas, who was hunched over with his elbows on his knees and staring at the wall. He ran to him, slid down to his knees in front of him, and grabbed his hands, startling him.

“Dean,” he said hoarsely. Dean looked at him a moment, then pulled Cas down into his lap and hugged him tightly. Cas’ knees were in his stomach and his arms were trapped between their chests but Dean didn’t care. It was their first hug and, despite the unhappy circumstances, it was awesome. He was so grateful to be holding him close.

“You should’ve called your boyfriend, asshole,” he muttered into his ear.

Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and that was even better.

“You didn’t have to come,” Cas said as he gripped Dean’s shirt.

“Of course I did,” Dean soothed him.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after ignoring you for ten days,” Cas muttered into his neck. His breath made Dean’s neck feel warm and damp and glorious.

“You weren’t ignoring me. You read every text I sent. You watched the same shows I did – I saw everything on the Netflix history. You took off your single relationship status on Facebook and changed your profile picture to the one of us Charlie took at the Fourth of July party. Gabe said you’ve been thinking about me. You can’t ignore someone who preoccupies your thoughts so much. I should know.” He hugged him tightly and brought one of his hands up to cradle his head. They sat like that for a couple of minutes. Dean’s feet started to get numb from being folded under him like they were, and he thought about changing their position, but then Cas drew away slightly, pulled his arms and legs from between them, and wrapped them around Dean like an octopus. He felt the man completely relax in his arms. There was no way Dean was going to move now, because this – Cas choosing to reach out to Dean, to embrace him – this was awesome. They stayed like that for a minute before Cas moved.

“I’m sure I’m starting to crush you,” he said as he planted his feet on the floor to stand.

“You aren’t,” Dean protested, even though Dean couldn’t feel his feet anymore.

“Dean,” he said as he stood and pulled the sandy-haired man with him. As soon as they were both standing, Cas drew him into another hug, and Dean relaxed. Maybe he’d get to have this after all.

“I think she was having a TIA,” Cas explained into Dean’s neck.

“What’s that?”

“Transient Ischemic Attack. It’s sort of like a mini-stroke.”

“Will she be okay?”

“I think so. She’s had them before. I just get so nervous when she has them. After the actual stroke she had a couple of years ago, I’m kind of paranoid about them.”

“Well I don’t blame you. You can’t be too careful.”

“They’re doing some tests now. MRI, CT scan, bloodwork. We can wait in her room. I just came out here in case someone came by – Gabe or Charlie or you.”

“I’m lucky Gabe called or I wouldn’t have known.”

Cas bunched up the back of Dean’s shirt in his fist and rested his forehead on his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. I know you love Gram and would be concerned about her, and I would’ve called you if it was worse, but it’s probably minor and I just… was a coward, honestly.”

“Yeah, you kinda were… but that’s okay, Cas. I’m still here. We work through it together, okay? I can handle your insecurities if you can handle mine.” He smiled and rocked Cas back and forth in their embrace. “I do love Gram and I am concerned about her, but I’m here for you, too. You know that, right?”

He sighed. “Yes, I know. Not that I deserve it.”

“You deserve all that and more.”

Cas didn’t have a chance to respond because a nurse came out to let them know they were done the testing and could go back to see Rosemarie. She seemed a little groggy but mostly impatient to go home. She chastised Castiel for “fussing” over her and was delighted to see Dean. An hour or so later, the physician on duty confirmed that it was likely a TIA and applauded Cas’ quick response. She stated that Rosemarie should rest and get plenty of fluids but otherwise could resume normal activities, and asked Cas to make a follow-up appointment for his grandmother. Cas and Dean breathed sighs of relief, and Rosemarie told them they were worrying too much about her. She insisted on riding home in Dean’s “muscle car” and Cas held her hand and gave her an indulgent grin. Dean said he’d be happy to give such a hot woman a ride home and brushed her hair affectionately, thinking of how much he loved this woman who loved him like her own. As he thought that, Cas slinked his hand into Dean’s and interlocked their fingers. He turned to Cas, who was gently arguing with Gram about not going to bingo tonight. He smiled as he watched the love radiate from this beautiful man, and he thought about how hard he was falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French to English translations:
> 
> Bonjour, monsieur Cas – Hello, Mr. Cas
> 
> Bonjour, Pierre – Hello, Pierre (Peter)
> 
> Comment ça va? Tu es très beau aujourd’hui. – How are you? You look very handsome today.
> 
> D’accord, mais ne dis rien à mon petit ami Dean – Okay, but don’t tell my boyfriend Dean


	10. Chapter 10

Dean saw little of Cas over the next few weeks, both of them busy with work. Dean hadn’t realized how much Cas actually did for Angel Cosmetics and how much more he had to do now that he was leaving. Between that, his regular clients and piano students, and hovering over Gram, Cas was mostly unavailable, but he always made time for Dean. They texted several times a day or talked on the phone, and Dean was happy.

September was now upon them, and Cas was once again begging off the camping trip they were scheduled to leave for in a week. Gabe and Balthazar were frustrated and Charlie pleaded with Dean to make Cas change his mind.

“He promised he was going this time,” Gabe whined. The four of them sat at a corner table at the bar. Business at 2:00 on a Tuesday afternoon was dead.

“I thought he was going this time, I really did. He was excited about it,” Balthazar grumbled.

“He’s been pretty beat, guys. I’ve barely seen him,” Dean shared. “Plus he’s super busy right now. Maybe September isn’t a great month for him to go on vacation.”

“Yeah, but he promised. And it’s his birthday!” Charlie explained. “He’s been avoiding all of us.”

“It’s his birthday? When?”

“September 18, Dean. Didn’t you ever ask?”

“It never really came up.” Charlie rolled her eyes at him.

“Look, maybe we can make some concessions for him,” Dean continued. “Like maybe it’s too much for him to go camping in the wilderness because he won’t have a signal or whatever and he won’t be able to reach Gram. So, maybe either we find someplace closer where he’d be able to have phone and internet access or… hey, maybe we could bring her with us.” Dean stopped, realizing his assumption, and fumbled with his words. “I mean you – maybe you guys could bring her with you.”

“You should totally come!” Charlie squealed. The others nodded. “And yeah, like maybe we could rent a vacation house or something! She hasn’t been on vacation in a while, either. Maybe she’d like it!”

“Now _that_ is a good idea. That way Cas wouldn’t have to worry, and we’d all be there to help. Plus Gram loves it when we’re all together. _And_ he’d get to be on vacation with his boyfriend,” Gabe winked. “I’ll look some up.” He grabbed his phone from the table and started typing. The others followed suit.

Dean stared at Gabe, slack-jawed. Dean hadn’t told anyone about asking Cas to be his boyfriend.

“Did you just call me Cas’ boyfriend?”

“That’s what he said,” Gabe said without looking up from his phone. He grabbed a mozzarella stick from the basket on the table and stuffed it into his mouth.

“He did?” Gabe didn’t answer and Dean nudged him repeatedly until he looked up. “He called me his boyfriend?”

Gabe looked at him with chipmunk cheeks. He chewed slowly and deliberately, staring at him blankly before turning his mouth up into a smile. “He did,” he said around the mozzarella stick. Dean felt dizzy with relief and excitement. “So you gonna help us talk Cas into this plan, Deano?”

“Absolutely,” Dean smiled.

It took a little less convincing than Dean thought it would. Cas liked the idea of going someplace where Gram could go, too, and felt sheepish he hadn’t thought of it before. He fretted over the “what ifs” but Dean helped him through his anxiety. He was thrilled to learn that Dean was taking some time off to go with them. Charlie happily rearranged their schedules. Gabe found a fantastic last-minute place on Lake Chaubunagungamaug. Everything went better than Dean could have hoped.

The house was beautiful. It was a huge place with six bedrooms, a wraparound porch, cedar shingles, and a wall of glass facing the lake. The landscaping was mostly grass, with a few plants here and there for interest, but Dean saw the potential. That first day he made a quick sketch, just for fun. Gabe grabbed it and sent a photo to the house’s owner while Dean protested and Cas held him back until Gabe was done. Dean made sure to protest a little harder so Cas would hold him a little longer.

The first few days were bliss. They kayaked at sunrise, waterskied, ate every camping food they could think of, and played a drinking game or two. They swam and read and walked the area and gazed at the stars, which were so much clearer out there. On Cas’ birthday, they had cake and sang to him obnoxiously and passed around embarrassing photos and told stories. Cas was a bit tired and seemed to be having headaches, but he took some medicine and was otherwise relaxed and enthusiastic. He even thanked Dean and the others for convincing him to finally take a vacation. He wouldn’t kiss Dean yet, because he said he thought he was coming down with a cold and he didn’t want to pass it on to Dean, but they did share a bed and Dean was thrilled to wake up to Cas each morning. The first morning he’d opened his eyes to Cas already looking at him, blue eyes drinking him in as he guessed he probably did to Cas. The second morning he felt those fingers again, the fingers he’d felt surreptitiously caressing him the morning after their sleepover. This time, though, Cas didn’t flinch, and Dean opened his eyes and just watched as Cas smoothed his fingertips over his hair, his ear, his jaw, his lips, his chin, and his neck, repeating the motion a few times as he smiled at Dean. Dean smiled back and mirrored his boyfriend’s movements, and they stayed like that until Balthazar yelled for them to get their asses downstairs before all the bacon was gone.

They were gathered around the fire one evening when Cas decided to go to bed early, saying he wasn’t feeling well. Dean offered to go with him but Cas insisted he stay with everyone else, since it was early and he would just be sleeping anyway. He made sure that someone would assist Gram to bed before he went to bed himself.

In the morning, Dean woke early and rubbed Cas’ back to ease him into wakefulness. The guys were supposed to go fishing today while Charlie and Rosemarie enjoyed a “girls’ day out.” Cas had difficulty dragging himself out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom and swung the door closed carelessly behind him. Dean thought his frumpy morning look was adorable, and he couldn’t wait to tease him for it. He got up and made coffee, then brought the cups upstairs. Cas was in the shower, so Dean waited and caught up on the news and a few text messages from Sam, Jo, and Benny. After thirty minutes, he finished his coffee and realized Cas was still in the shower. Gabe and Balth were packing the cooler, so he knew they had to get going.

“Hey, bathing beauty,” Dean called as he knocked outside the door. I didn’t realize you were such a shower diva. We gotta get going.” No response. Maybe he was in the middle of… something. Dean smirked. “You need some help in there, handsome?” Still no response. Hmm. “Hey Cas? I’m coming in.” Dean opened the door and was stopped by an object on the floor, which turned out to be Cas’ leg. He was sprawled out on the floor, wet and shivering, towels pulled haphazardly all over him. Dean’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Cas! Hey bud, you okay?”

“Cold,” Cas chattered, barely audible. “Sore.”

“Oh no, bud. Okay, let’s get you up.” He wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him to standing, then walked him to the bed. Cas sat with his head hanging to his chest as Dean dried him off and tucked him into bed on his back, one towel still wrapped around his middle. He found a thermometer in the bathroom and stuck it in his mouth.

“Sorry,” Cas muttered around the thermometer.

“For what? Not your fault you’re sick.”

“I’m…”

“Wait until that’s out of your mouth.” It beeped and Dean pulled it out and read it.

“Sorry I’m delaying the fishing trip. You should go. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I know you can. You’re well-known for that. But I’m staying. Be right back.” Dean stepped out of the room and told Gabe and Balthazar to go without them. He explained the situation and they offered to stay, but Dean said he had it under control.

“You have a fever,” Dean announced as he came back into the room carrying a pitcher of water and a glass. He set them down, then pulled a t-shirt and sleep pants out of Cas’ suitcase. He sat down and made the bed bounce a little as he pulled him upright to dress him.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to see me naked for the first time,” Cas joked weakly. He slumped onto Dean’s shoulder after Dean got his shirt onto him. “I’m glad I didn’t kiss you. I wouldn’t want you to have this.”

Dean chuckled as he moved the blankets and pulled the last towel away from Cas’ midsection. “I’d kiss you even if you had fire ants coming out of your mouth, but thanks for your consideration.” Cas smiled against his shoulder, but moved as Dean lay him down onto the pillow. “And as for seeing you naked, well, this doesn’t count.” He slid the pants onto his legs and wiggled the pants over his pelvis and buttocks, then looked him in the eyes. “But I look forward to the day when it does.” Cas let out a small groan, and Dean just about lost control. He leaned forward and kissed the tender spot under Cas’ ear, then his jaw, then the pulse point on his neck. Cas grasped his arms and closed his eyes. Dean moved to the other side of his head and kissed the same spots there.

“This sucks,” Cas murmured.

“I’m gonna assume you mean being sick,” Dean teased as he looked at Cas again. Cas nodded his head minutely.

“You shouldn’t be close to me. You should probably sleep in one of the other rooms.”

“Nope. Not leaving. Besides, I’ve already been exposed, right?” Cas closed his eyes in acknowledgement. Dean climbed into bed beside him and wrapped him in his arms, trying to stave off the shivering. They stayed that way for several hours, and Dean tended to him through the rest of the day and night.

When Cas didn’t feel much better the next day, Dean brought him to the closest urgent care clinic to be tested for influenza, since he heard that if they catch it early they could give him Tamiflu or something that would stop it or at least slow it down. He tested negative and they declared it a cold. Cas participated in the rest of the vacation as much as he could, fighting his symptoms with various medications Charlie picked up at the pharmacy a few miles away. They helped some, and Cas still declared it a decent vacation, made better because he was with people he loved. Dean’s heart fluttered at Cas’ casual use of the word, as if it were so true it didn’t require any big declaration. He wondered exactly how the word applied to him.

After their return from vacation, Dean texted Cas throughout each day and checked on him every day after work. Cas chose to do all of his meetings over Skype that week rather than risk getting anyone sick. He allowed Gabe, Charlie, Balthazar, Dean, and even Jess and Sam to help Gram, since he didn’t want to make her ill. He tried to insist that he could take care of himself, but Dean wouldn’t hear of it and forced himself on him. He was limping and was especially insistent that he didn’t want Dean seeing him naked below the waist. It seemed too intense to dismiss it as modesty, so Dean figured he was hiding something and confronted him on it that Sunday in his home office.

“It’s nothing, Dean,” Cas insisted.

“Bullshit. You don’t lie very well.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“So it’s something then.”

“It’s nothing major. I don’t need to be babied. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I know that. You are the fucking expert at taking care of yourself. That doesn’t mean I can’t help too.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“So what?”

“So don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Take care of me.”

“I want to.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Uh, nope, can’t think of any.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see what happens and worry about it then.”

Dean paused. There was something about the way Cas said it that made him believe there was something underneath the statement. “What do you mean?”

Cas paused. “Nothing.” He turned and started to open the door to leave his office, but Dean came behind him and slammed it shut, then pressed into Cas with his arms framing him. Cas turned around to face him.

“This isn’t necessary, Dean.”

“It’s not a cold, is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know!”

“Are you really sick and not telling me? Like seriously sick?”

“What does it matter?” he yelled.

“What does it matter? Fuck, Cas! Why do you think it matters?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well if I wasn’t totally fucking transparent enough for you, let me make it crystal clear!” Dean surged forward and crashed their lips together, frustrated and hungry and wet and wanting. Cas quickly responded in kind, trading licks and caresses until he pulled back, breathless and ashamed. He held onto Dean but looked away.

“Do you know why I wanted to go on those un-dates with you? I mean, besides how incredibly hot you are?” Dean asked tenderly. Cas squeezed his eyes shut briefly to keep the tears from escaping and shook his head.

“I wanted to go because I was tired of the bull, just like you. I wanted to get to know someone, on a deeper level, and I wanted someone to know me, too, really know me. I didn’t want to play games.”

“I’m not trying to play games,” Cas whispered with sadness in his voice.

“No, I’m not saying you are,” Dean continued gently. “You said that you wanted someone who really wanted to know you. That’s me. I want to know you, and I know what that means. It means you’re not gonna smile all the time. It means you’re gonna be insecure sometimes. It means you’re gonna be grumpy or sick or pissed off sometimes, even at me. Probably me more than anyone else. But Cas, I’m not afraid of any of that. I like a challenge. What I’m afraid of is that you’re gonna reject me so that I can’t reject you someday, even though that’s not going to happen, ever.” He guided Cas’ face with his fingers until Cas looked at him. “Listen to me, okay? I am not your 14-year-old mother who gave you up and never looked back. She was too immature to think of anyone but herself. I’m not your birth father who lost his life to drugs. He was too wrapped up in his addiction to choose you over the drugs. I lived that one, Cas, and it hurts, I know it does. I’m not your first girlfriend who loved your money more than you, and I’m not your first guy crush who didn’t know the first thing about his own sexuality. I’m not anyone who’s ever used you or misunderstood you or wanted you to be someone different. You said it yourself, Cas – you’ve never met anyone like me. I want all of you, and I would never, ever reject you, not for any reason. I want you to take what you want from me, Cas. Take it all. You will never take too much, because I want you to have everything, and you fill me up so much there’s always more to give.”

Cas was breathing rapidly, and Dean was hoping it was from his words and not from his illness. He supported him with one arm around his waist and slid his fingertips from Cas’ temple down to his lips. “What do you want, Cas?”

“You,” he whispered breathlessly as he pulled Dean to him. Their kisses were heated and desperate, the effect of months of waiting and want. Dean wrapped both his arms around Cas as Cas pulled Dean’s hips closer to his. They both spewed a litany of unintelligible words as they licked and sucked at each other’s mouths and faces and necks. They broke apart, panting for breath. Cas steadied himself against Dean for a moment in a spell of dizziness, then led him by the hand to the black leather couch in the corner. Cas pulled his boyfriend on top of him but Dean stopped at Cas’ wince and sharp intake of breath. He lifted himself off Cas’ lap gingerly and sat beside him instead, one arm around his shoulders and the other around his waist. Cas pulled down the thin green cotton pants he was wearing.

“Babe, I cannot express how bad I want that, but you’re still sick. Making out was making you tired.”

Cas said nothing, but instead showed him a large bright rash on his leg and a swollen knee. The rash looked a little like a bullseye. Dean’s eyes widened.

“Shit Cas, what is that?”

“I don’t know for sure yet, but they tested me for Lyme Disease. They insisted that I have to come in to get the results.”

That was never good. Dean touched the rash, which felt warm. He moved his hand to his knee, touching it very softly before returning his hand to his hip.

Cas looked at Dean nervously. “Will you come with me to the doctor’s office tomorrow? That’s when I get the test results and I really don’t want to be alone.”

Dean had a shit-ton of things to do tomorrow. He wasn’t caught up from vacation yet, he had a huge project starting for Newton Parks and Rec, and he had a consultation with a client so big he or she or they wanted to remain anonymous until a landscaper had been chosen for the project, which could bring in hundreds of thousands of dollars if they won the contract.

“Of course I will, babe,” he said and kissed him lovingly. “Nothing’s more important than you.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

“You want me to get you a wheelchair or some crutches or something?” Dean asked as they stopped in front of the medical office. Cas smiled wearily.

“No thanks,” he replied. Dean knew that if Cas had more energy and wasn’t so worried he would’ve made a more colorful remark about Dean’s mothering. It made Dean keep quiet and not argue. Instead, he helped him out of the car and held his hand as they walked into the office building. He released it to press the call button for the elevator.

“Cas!” a woman exclaimed from behind them just as they were about to step into the elevator. Cas turned as the woman caught up to them. “Hey sweetie!”

Cas, sick as he was, turned on his smile and warm demeanor. “How are you, Katrina?” he asked, his voice sweet and silky like honey.

“Just fine, thanks! Looks like you’re a little under the weather, hmm?” she cooed as she looked him over and pulled him into a hug. “Handsome as always, though,” she winked. The three of them entered the elevator.

“You’ve always been very kind to the infirmed,” he said drolly to her. She laughed.

“Honey, you could be hit by an 18-wheeler and still look good,” she giggled as she placed a hand on his arm. Dean squirmed uncomfortably. This woman was being a little too familiar with Cas, and he didn’t like it but kept his mouth shut.

“I feel like I have been,” he smiled crookedly and she giggled again, squeezing his arm and making a little “aww” sound. He looked at her warmly before saying, “Katrina, this is my boyfriend Dean. Dean, this is Katrina. She runs a pastry shop near Tufts.”

Dean’s heart flipped as the word “boyfriend” slipped so easily out of Cas’ mouth. He smugly raised his hand to shake Katrina’s.

“Ah, so this is the famous Dean!” she said as he shot her a puzzled look. “I always make sure to keep some pie stocked just for you,” she grinned as she gripped his hand briefly before releasing it. Dean still looked puzzled. He’d never met her, nor been in her shop.

“I may have mentioned you,” Cas muttered. Katrina smirked.

“Yeah, he may have mentioned you… you know, a few times.” Dean suddenly remembered the pies Cas always seemed to have on hand whenever he came over. His eyes widened.

“You made that blueberry-apple one? With the streusel and the drizzle and the… oh that was good! And the strawberry rhubarb?”

“Guilty,” she joked as the doors opened. Cas shuffled off the elevator and Dean walked slowly to stay by his side. “Hey, you guys should come by when you’re feeling better, Cas!”

“We’ll do that,” he smiled.

“Good. Nice seeing you, sweetie. And nice meeting the guy who finally stole Cas’ heart!” she said to Dean as the doors closed. Dean couldn’t repress the smile that crept onto his face.

“Sorry. She’s lovely but a bit exuberant.”

“Nah, it’s okay, Cas. I liked her.”

The waiting room was busy, and the longer they waited, the more nervous Cas got. Most people wouldn’t be able to see it, but Dean knew his tells. He reached over and grasped his hand. Cas exhaled gently and Dean felt him relax a little. Cas’ name was called, and Dean wasn’t sure whether he should follow or not, but Cas tugged his hand gently as he stood, and Dean took that as permission and followed. They were placed into an exam room, where Cas was weighed and measured and his vitals were taken, and then they waited some more.

“Castiel,” the doctor greeted with open arms. Cas stood and embraced her. She pulled back and her eyes danced with affection. Seemed like Cas had that effect on everybody. He rolled his eyes to himself as he talked down the jealousy monster lurking nearby. If he was going to be with Cas, he had to understand that Cas loved people, and people definitely loved Cas. He was shaken out of his little struggle as his boyfriend introduced Dean to the doctor, whose name was Hannah. He was on a first-name basis with his doctor. Unbelievable.

“Well, Cas, your tests for influenza and meningitis came back negative. The Lyme test came back positive.” Cas nodded and waited for her to continue. “Based on your symptoms, you’re probably in the early stage, which is good news. Untreated Lyme Disease can get nasty pretty quickly. We assume it was when you went to chase that dog. But since we don’t know exactly when…”

“Chase the dog? What dog?” Dean asked. He didn’t know what they were talking about.

“A few days before our vacation, I was jogging and these kids lost control of their dog. I went running into tall grass to catch it. That’s probably where I got the tick that infected me.”

“You don’t think it was from the vacation house?”

“No, I checked myself over well. Plus, I was already feeling some headaches and body aches.” Dean nodded. Of course Cas got sick because he was doing something heroic. Of course.

“So since we don’t know exactly when,” Hannah continued, “I want to treat the disease aggressively. I’m recommending a 21-day course of antibiotics, along with some probiotics and a sensible eating regimen. You should make a full recovery.”

“I read that there are complications sometimes,” Cas said as Dean watched him.

“Sometimes, yes, but we’ll monitor you carefully to make sure the meds are having the desired effect. If your symptoms don’t start improving in a couple of weeks, there’s a great program I can refer you to. Want to know what it’s called?” she smirked. Cas raised his eyebrows. She glanced at Dean and said, “It’s The Dean Center for Tick Borne Illness over at Spaulding Rehab.” Cas laughed and Dean shook his head and blushed. “There are others, too, at Tufts and MGH. We’ll take care of you, Cas.”

Both Cas and Dean asked several questions before leaving. They picked up his medications at the pharmacy, then Dean brought Cas home and stayed with him the rest of the day.

For the next several days, Dean stopped by early to check on Cas and came over after work to spend time with him until he went to bed. Dean tried hard not to hover, but he was worried and he felt Cas was trying to do too much. When he found Cas crawling from his desk chair to the couch in his office on a Sunday evening, he snapped.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” Dean yelled.

“I’m not doing anything to myself, I’m just working!”

“You should be resting!”

“I rest plenty!”

“I mean rest for the average sick person, not for Superman.”

“I took too much time off, I have to get back to it.”

“You’re gonna have a whole lot more work pile up if you end up in the hospital because you pushed yourself!”

“I’m fine!”

“So yeah, most people who feel fine _crawl across the floor_.”

“I’m making it work, I’m fine.”

“You’re _not fine_ , you are _sick_!”

“Yes, _thank you_ for the reminder. You know, I manage all day while you’re working.”

“Then fine, Cas, you don’t want to listen to reason, then you just keep managing on your own. Clearly you don’t need me around.”

“Fine, then leave, if that’s what you want.”

Dean stormed out of the office and thundered down the stairs. He took a few breaths in the foyer to steady himself. He approached the front door, thinking about whether he should just leave. Cas was pissed, he was pissed, and maybe they needed space. Part of him wanted to run. But he didn’t want to do that to Cas. It didn’t feel right. He turned the lock and walked slowly to the kitchen. There was a small light on above the oven. He used the dim light to get a glass from the second cabinet to the right of the oven and to root around in the fridge until he found the strawberry lemonade Cas had recently started stocking for him, since he said he liked the change from regular lemonade. He liked his with ice in it, but the ice machine was noisy and he didn’t want to wake Gram, although they probably already had with their yelling. He slid his glass onto the table next to Cas’ keys, then sat and sighed heavily. He played with the pewter cat paw keychain Dean had purchased for Cas as a joke sometime after their grooming/shelter un-date until he heard shuffling footsteps approach, and he instinctively stood and watched Gram as she wordlessly took the seat next to Dean. He sat down and she placed her hand atop his.

“Do you know about the night Castiel’s father left?” she said in her halting, slurred manner. Dean shook his head. He never thought it his place to ask.

“Castiel was four. He was sick; he caught one of those stomach bugs. It came on quickly and Charles and I didn’t even know he had it until later. We had gone out to a work event and left him with a babysitter, because his father was not reliable. But he came home and told the babysitter to leave. Castiel hated being sick. He always wanted to curl up with us when he was ill and he hated throwing up. So I imagine he was crying and scared. But his father never had much of a tolerance for that, and he was using.” Rosemarie’s eyes began to well with tears, and Dean turned his hand to clasp hers. “We came home and found Castiel in a puddle of his own vomit in the foyer.” Her voice cracked and Dean had to fight off his own tears. “He said his father called him a bad boy and then he left. Castiel said he waited by the door in case his father forgot his key when he went with his ‘bad friends,’ because we always taught him to lock the door. He didn’t come back that night.”

Dean’s stomach twisted and he let the tears fall. His Cas – kind, loving, strong, good-to-everybody Cas – was left alone, sick and scared, by the person who was supposed to take care of him, who was supposed to love him no matter what. He felt sick. No wonder he always tried to take care of himself instead of relying on others. Dean felt like an ass for even considering walking out of the house, even just to cool off. He could only imagine what that would do to Cas.

“He came back a few days later while Castiel and Charles were at the park with his cousins and my daughter Anna. I told him to leave and that he couldn’t come back unless he was going to get treatment.” He felt her grief and imagined what it must’ve been like for her to turn away her son, who was sick himself, for the sake of her grandson. “We changed the locks and told Castiel that his father was very sick and couldn’t live there anymore. He never asked questions. When he was older, we told him the rest.” She used a napkin to blot at her eyes. “It made me angry to know that we raised a boy who couldn’t take care of his own, and sad that we couldn’t make him get better.”

Dean stroked her wrist with his free hand. “Gram, addiction does bad things to people. I saw it with my dad and his drinking and gambling.” She nodded. “But you raised Anna and she raised Gabe and Balthazar, and they’re good people. And you raised Cas and he’s… well, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, period. He loves people and tries to see the best in everyone. He makes them feel good and he takes care of them. I know he’d be a great dad if he ever decided to have kids. And he learned that stuff from you and Charles. You did good, Gram.”

“Thank you, Dean,” she said as she patted his hand. They spoke for a few minutes more, then Dean washed his glass and made sure she got to bed safely. He gave her a tender kiss on the cheek before stepping out and settling onto the loveseat in the parlor next to Gram’s bedroom, where Cas gave his lessons. There was a pillow and a blanket tucked to the side behind a table, hidden away from anyone who was in the room. Dean assumed that Cas had been sneaking from his bedroom after Dean left at night and sleeping on the loveseat so that he could hear her if she needed anything. He mentioned that they had an intercom system, and when Cas was well that worked just fine, but now that he was weaker due to his illness he probably figured he’d err on the side of caution and just sleep nearby. Damn Cas’ birth father and birth mother for making him think less of himself. A man who would do that for his grandmother deserved so much better.

He heard slow, soft thunking and sliding sounds coming from the stairs. Cas must be coming to say goodnight to Gram and settle onto the loveseat. The noise reminded Dean of when he and Sammy would slide down the stairs on their bottoms. Dean guessed that’s what he must be doing, probably to prevent himself from falling. It took everything Dean had to restrain himself from racing to him to help. Eventually the sliding stopped and he heard Cas groan, then start shuffling. He must’ve gotten to his feet. He heard the water dispenser in the kitchen turn on, then off, then the sound of the glass landing a little loudly on the table. He heard pills rattling, then what he assumed was the pill bottle sliding across the table. He heard Cas take several deep breaths before shuffling again, this time toward the parlor. The shuffling stopped just before he reached the entrance to the parlor, then he heard Cas mutter something under his breath before shuffling away. Dean thought he might know what Cas was doing. It was confirmed when he just barely heard Cas say out loud, “It’s locked already?” before heading toward the parlor again. When he finally crossed the threshold, he stopped and stared at Dean.

“I thought you went home,” Cas said as he leaned against the wall for support.

“I am home,” Dean replied softly.

“I meant…”

“Home is where you are, Cas.”

Dean’s boyfriend (still, he hoped) continued to stare. Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know I was being kind of a dick about you taking care of yourself. I know you can. You are totally capable, probably more than I am on a good day.” Cas remained silent but moved closer. “I know you want to get better. I just want you to know that I’m here, that I want to help. I’ll help any way you want me to, even if that’s just to back the fuck off. You just gotta let me know. I just… it sucks not being in control of something, you know? I can’t control this stupid illness, and I can’t control you, so I try to nag you to make sure you take care of yourself ‘cause that’s the only thing I can do. I’m scared it’ll get worse and you’ll be hurting even more, and I don’t want to watch you suffer and I don’t want you to push me away because you think I won’t want you or can’t handle it or some shit. You’re not alone. You never have to be alone.” Dean hadn’t noticed Castiel approaching him and sitting next to him on the loveseat.

“I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you,” Cas said as he took Dean’s hand. “I’m sorry, too. I overreacted. I’ve never done well with being sick, and I feel very out of control right now. So I’m trying to grab control where I can. I feel like if I take my meds and stay positive and work and do everything I would usually do that it won’t take over and I’ll win, you know? No illness is gonna tell me what to do.” Cas chuckles and Dean joins him, relaxing a little now that the tension between them is dissipating. “But really, I’m scared, too. I’m scared that the meds won’t work and I won’t feel better and I’ll have to give things up. I’m scared you’ll leave if I don’t get better, so I’ve tried to show you that I’m getting better, that I’m fine. I’m scared that I’m being punished for being happier than I’ve ever been, like I’ve been selfish and wrong to want this for myself. And that doesn’t make sense, I know, but in my mind it does.”

“It makes sense, Cas.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He pulled Cas into a hug. They were both trembling, the fatigue of heavy emotion breaking them down. He pressed his lips to Cas’ ear in a kiss, then said, “Please trust me to be there for you, that I’m gonna stay. Trust me. Please.”

“I will, Dean,” Cas whispered back. “Please trust me to know what I can handle and that I’ll ask you for help if I need it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Cas paused, then said, “I promise I will. I promise I will ask for help.”

Dean hugged him tighter. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for staying,” Cas replied. He pulled out of the embrace first and stood, holding out his hand. “Will you come to bed with me?”

Dean took his hand and rose from the loveseat. “Oh yeah I will,” he smirked and Castiel laughed before tugging him to his side and leaning against him.

Dean slept in Castiel’s bed that night and for the next several, waking him up each morning with massages for Cas’ aching body.

“You should stop doing this every morning,” Cas said as he moaned in pleasure. “I’m going to get too used to it.”

“I would love to do this for you every morning.”

“You won’t say that when you’re 60 and have arthritis in your hands and hips from doing this.”

“It’ll be worth it.” He silently gave a little cheer that Cas was thinking about them together so far into the future.

***

Dean avoided being with Cas in the way he really wanted to. Despite Cas hinting at it and letting him know it would be okay, Dean was still scared that it would be too much for Cas to have sex just yet. He seemed to be feeling a little better, after nearly two weeks on the medication, but Dean wasn’t taking any chances, especially if they had (he hoped) their whole lives to be together. Cas always let it go.

Dean didn’t want to go to work that Friday. Cas was sleeping in after having three or four days in a row of his pre-sickness early wake-up times, so Dean was worried that he might be regressing. He really thought he was starting to get better, but that morning he turned down the massage and the coffee and just asked him to check on Gram before going to work. He even called Charlie and cancelled his meetings for that day. Dean tried to get the phone from him so she could cancel his as well, but Cas insisted he would be fine. He asked him to trust him and told him to get his ass out of bed, so he did, begrudgingly. He texted Charlie anyway.

_From Dean 6:43am: Get me out of my meetings today_

_From Charlie 6:47am: No can do._

_From Dean 6:48am: What do you mean? You work for me you know_

_From Charlie 6:53am: Yup, I do, and I’m telling you that you can’t cancel these._

_From Dean 6:54am: Cas is sick_

_From Charlie 6:58am: He will be fine, I’m sure. He’s a big boy. I’ll check on him, I promise. Now get going._

Dean was scowling when he got to the office.

“What’s your problem?” Sam asked. He brought Dean a cup of coffee and sat down at the desk across from him. Their new office, leased in a space Charlie found for them, was shaping up nicely. They had a bid in on the property next door and they were hopeful they’d be able to get their equipment and trucks on that property instead of at the lot they rented. With any luck, they hoped to own the whole shebang before the end of the year. Despite his prickliness toward her earlier, Charlie had really been a godsend – well, a Cas-send, but there was certainly a divine power behind it all.

“Cas.”

“You guys fighting?”

“No. He’s not feeling well today.”

“I thought he was getting better?”

“I thought so, too, but he cancelled all his meetings today and he just wanted me out.”

“Well, try not to take it too personally, Dean. He’s probably just frustrated at the setback.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on, we’ve got a busy day. We’ve got a meeting with Green this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s with this long-ass meeting this afternoon?”

Sam shrugged. “Don’t know. New client. Charlie set it up.”

They finished their coffees and attended a big meeting with Joshua Green, the top-secret person who’d chosen them for that huge project for which Dean had missed the presentation when Cas was getting his test results. When Sam and Benny let the guy know why Dean wasn’t there, the guy was touched that Dean would give up a project to support his boyfriend. He loved Dean’s work anyway, but really wanted to work with a company that understood family, so he hired Winchester Landscaping. It turned out that the guy owned several boutique resorts throughout New England, as well as a larger resort in Bermuda. Discussing the plans for the New England resorts took most of the morning. By the time they left, it was nearing lunchtime and Sam pulled out his phone, typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked irritably as he buckled his seat belt.

“Uh, just looking stuff up. I want to eat someplace new.”

“Fine, but it has to be someplace near our next meeting. We don’t have a lot of time.” He paused as Sam continued typing. “I’m gonna check on Cas before we go,” said Dean as his phone chimed in his hand. Speak of the devil.

_From Cas 11:11am: Can you drop by?_

Dean’s stomach fell to his feet. He tried not to panic as he typed a response.

_From Dean 11:12am: Sure what’s up?_

_From Cas 11:12am: I just need you, please. I’ll explain when you get here._

Dean started to panic.

_From Cas 11:13am: Don’t panic._

He glared at his phone. Damn Cas for knowing him so well.

_From Dean 11:13am: On my way_

“I gotta go see Cas,” Dean said as he slipped the phone in his shirt pocket and started the truck. “I’ll drop you back at the office.” Sam nodded and resumed typing into his phone.

The ride was fairly short but felt interminable. He finally pulled up to Cas’ and tried the door. It was unlocked.

“Cas?” he called into the empty house. It seemed so quiet. He looked around. Gram didn’t seem to be there. “Cas?” he called again.

Dean’s heart started to race. He ran upstairs and burst into Cas’ bedroom, throwing the door open. It looked different but his frazzled mind couldn’t comprehend why. As he looked around, he heard the door slam closed behind him. He turned toward the door, then slightly to the left, and _oh my God_.

Cas was standing tall, feet about hip-width apart. He was barefoot and wearing khaki pants, an open tan safari jacket with the arms ripped off, and a brown fedora. He stared intensely at Dean with those darkened blues that could cut through diamonds. This was Dean’s Indiana Jones fantasy come true. He dropped his keys and they clattered noisily to the hardwood floor as he stood there slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Cas tilted his head slightly to the left and upturned one corner of his mouth in a killer smirk. Dean gulped as Cas slinked to meet him, gaze staying laser-focused on Dean’s bewildered stare. He slowly swept one hand from Dean’s navel, to his sternum, to his collarbone, to the nape of his neck. Cas, though slightly shorter, loomed over Dean as Dean’s knees started to weaken and he instinctively lowered himself to level with Cas’ eyes, his nose, his mouth. When Cas spoke, his breath ghosted over Dean’s lips.

“Ask me what I want, Dean.”

His voice was dark, deep, and rich. Dean’s mouth dried up and his brain stopped working.

Cas inserted his index and middle fingers into Dean’s collar and pulled him closer. “Ask me what I want, Dean,” he rumbled as his lips touched Dean’s.

Dean licked his lips to speak, and unintentionally touched Cas’ in the process. His eyes darkened as he watched Dean struggle to become coherent again.

“Wh- uh, what do you want, Cas?” he whispered.

“You. All of you. _Now_.”

Dean was worried he’d make Cas sicker. He was worried he would hurt him. Mostly, he was afraid that Cas would finally figure out Dean wasn’t good enough for him. But Dean pushed those thoughts aside and said the words his heart was screaming at him. “Take me.”

Cas closed the space between them with a fiery kiss and walked him to the edge of the bed, following him as Dean lowered himself onto it. He flung the fedora aside and unbuttoned the spruce green dress shirt Dean saved for client consultation and meeting days. Dean stared at Cas’ fingers as they deftly loosened one button after another, then stroked the skin underneath before moving to the next one. When the shirt hung unbuttoned, Cas smoothed his hands over Dean’s chest and onto his shoulders, sliding the shirt down his arms and off. He slid his hands up his arms again and planted them behind Dean’s neck, pulling him close again and licking into Dean as if he was a pool of water and Cas was a man dying of thirst. Dean’s brain finally caught up enough to slip his hands just under the waistband of Cas’ pants and dig into the warm flesh of his hips. Cas took this as an invitation and ground down onto him, and Dean’s brain was once again offline; he moaned, lost in sensation and want as he inhaled Cas’ sweet breath into his own. Dean took some initiative and lay back onto the bed, pulling Cas down with him and threading a calloused hand into his hair, tugging it and teasing with his mouth until Cas purred and squirmed above him. Hearing him made Dean forget that Cas had ever been sick at all, and as he kissed him he grabbed at him more desperately, grinding hard and dragging his shirt roughly off his shoulders and onto the floor. Cas laughed against his lips and sat up on his elbows. He smiled slyly and winked. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he rumbled as he held Dean’s captivated gaze.

That’s when Dean knew Cas was okay, would be okay even if his health failed or his old fears kicked up or he never worked again. He would be okay because he was Cas, _his_ Cas, truly, and Cas trusted and wanted him; they trusted and wanted each other. Cas finally let Dean in. Dean wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he felt it bone-deep. He pressed his lips together to hold back the tears as Cas watched him. The lustful smile and playful challenge dancing on Cas’ face morphed into tenderness and reverence and wonder, all those and more and Dean inhaled sharply as Cas’ fingers caressed his cheeks, because he knew without a doubt now…

“I love you, Dean.”

…that Cas Novak was in love with him…

“I love you, Cas.”

…and he was deeply in love with Cas.

The revelations sparked a new round of kissing and exploration, which grew from gentle and undemanding to passionate and raw. Clothes were removed with as little time and distance from each other as possible, and soon hands and tongues were mapping trails on bodies, stopping to admire points of interest along the way. Cas was a fantastic, attentive lover, and judging by the way his voice rang through the room, he thought Dean was pretty effective, too.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas asked breathlessly before throwing his head back as Dean sucked at a very pleasurable spot.

Dean stopped and thought for a moment, then slithered up Cas’ body and rasped with desire, “You. Inside me.”

They rolled and panted and howled and Cas opened Dean with slick fingers until Dean was begging. Cas flipped them over so that Dean was above him and Cas was on his back.

“Will you take over? I’ve still got a little muscle soreness and I just need to rest a bit,” Cas asked nonchalantly, and Dean could’ve cried right then because Cas was admitting he was sick and asking Dean to help, without fear that Dean would scoff or think of him as weak or reject him.

“Anything you want, Indy,” he joked as he slung his leg into a better position. Cas laughed and Dean joined him. He captured Cas’ eyes with his own and kept them locked together as Dean lowered himself slowly onto Cas’ shaft. Cas shuddered and his eyes rolled back and closed. He placed his hands on Cas’ chest and breathed deeply as he adjusted himself. Cas’ eyes flew open as Dean fully seated onto Cas.

“Am I hurting you?” Dean asked.

“You are doing the exact opposite of hurting me,” Cas responded, low and warm. He picked up one of Dean’s hands and kissed each knuckle. “You can move when you’re ready.”

Dean began to move, soft and slow, then quicker and harder. The mattress was forgiving as it moved with them in time, and their pulses accelerated as they gasped for air. Sweat pooled in the palms of their intertwined hands but they didn’t let go, instead spreading it between their fingers as they thrusted their bodies together. The movement felt grounding even as they soared above their own awareness, the shared goal of mutual pleasure hovering in the atmosphere. When the white-hot crackle of release coursed through them, they cursed and praised and fell into incoherent sounds until Dean collapsed onto Cas and Cas curled his body around him.

The giddy smile on Cas’ face matched his own, and Dean had never known what making love felt like until then. He felt silly and happy and totally in love, and he kissed Cas’ nose and made him smile lazily. God, he wanted to wake up to that face every day.

“You made me miss a client meeting and I can’t even be bothered to give a fuck,” Dean drawled as he traced the line of Cas’ five o’clock shadow.

“I was your client meeting,” he smiled. Dean raised his eyebrows. “I asked Sam and Charlie to help me out so I could have you to myself for the afternoon.”

“You sneaky bastard.” Cas grinned proudly at his deception. “You could’ve just asked.”

“You still thought I was fragile,” Cas countered.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Sorry.”

“I know,” he replied simply. “It’s out of love. But so were my actions, so I hope you’re not upset.”

“I am the exact opposite of upset,” he said as he mimicked Cas’ earlier words. Cas hummed and took his hand.

“Nap?”

“Nap,” Dean agreed. He got up and grabbed a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean them up, then curled up behind Cas and wrapped him in his arms.

“Shall we do this again later?”

“Yes,” Dean smiled into Cas’ hair. “Love you.”

“Love you, Dean.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Dean found out that Cas really was a romantic sap. Just two weeks after making love for the first time, Cas pulled out a wrapped box.

“What’s this for?” Dean asked as they lay in Cas’ huge bed.

“This is the six month anniversary of our first un-date.”

“Seriously? How do you remember that shit? I didn’t get you anything. Damn.”

“Your response to this gift will be my gift.”

Dean unwrapped the tiny box. It was a set of house keys. Dean smiled at Cas and nodded before kissing him senseless. Dean was late for work.

They went to simple and fancy dinners. They went to concerts and hockey games. Cas taught Dean to ski. Dean taught Cas to play chess – and regretted it when Cas beat him handily. They invited each other’s families over for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Dean took care of Cas when he came down with the flu. Cas took care of Dean when he caught it from him. They kissed at midnight on New Year’s. They celebrated Dean’s thirtieth birthday. Cas held Dean’s hand on the flight to Bermuda where they met Joshua Green to view his property and further discuss the plans for the New England properties, and they walked along the beach with piña coladas and hid in a grove of trees and rocks to make out while Gram, Sam, Jess, and Charlie went to the spa.

The board of Angel Cosmetics asked Cas if they could hire him as a business consultant for their latest idea, a new branch of the company dedicated to philanthropy, and he happily agreed. Cas had an idea about how to launch the new venture, and the board loved it so much they asked if he would be in the first ad campaign. At the “retirement” party they insisted on throwing for him, their Creative Director Missouri Moseley unveiled the first commercial. Cas had asked Dean to be in it and he agreed, but he had no idea what the ad was about. Cas said he knew the concept but didn’t know how the final product turned out, as Missouri had just said to trust her and he did.

The commercial opened with Cas asking the question, “Who’s your angel?” as different groups of people flashed by on the screen. Cas talked about Angel Cosmetics wanting to recognize “Angels on Earth” and invited viewers to nominate an angel in their lives with the hashtag #whosyourangel. Ten “angels” and the people who nominated them would be selected for a vacation in New York City and $10,000 donations in their names to the charities of their choice. It was a cool concept, Dean thought, and such a Cas thing to do. Cas narrated the commercial as Angel employees, people interviewed on the street, and Cas and his family and friends appeared in brief, live action, candid interactions, and in every shot, someone had shadowy wings behind them. Cas hid his face when his employees surrounded him on the screen; they held a gold tinsel halo over his head as huge wings spread out behind him and he smiled and blushed in humility and embarrassment. Toward the end of the commercial, friends and family and employees and strangers flashed on the screen saying, “My angel is my…” and filling in the blank with things like _sister, mentor, child, partner_ and so on until the clip of Dean and Cas laughing came on and Cas said, “My angel is my everything” before the screen went to a shot of the #whosyourangel hashtag and then to black. Dean couldn’t see the end of the commercial through his tears, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Dean reached over and kissed Cas soundly and couldn’t believe his good fortune to have such an amazing man, even if he did turn out to be a bit of a sap.

***

“We never did our final un-date, you know that?” Cas mentioned casually one night shortly after the retirement party when they were loading the dishwasher.

Dean paused what he was doing and thought. “What was it?”

“It was a blank one. My choice.”

“Oh yeah. Whaddaya wanna do?”

He got a twinkle in his eye and said, “How about a group un-date?”

And so that was how Cas, Dean, Gram, Sam and Jess, Charlie, Gabe, Balthazar and his girlfriend, Jody and her husband, Donna, Bobby, Jo, Meg, Adam, and Benny and his wife ended up in a church basement the following Friday night to play bingo. They called ahead and reserved a long table. Most of them thought it was highly amusing that Dean and Cas had ever found romance in a bingo hall surrounded by people more than twice their age, but they soon understood that it was a lively, happy place that suited them just fine. The other participants were warm and accepting of the newcomers, and there seemed to be an especially merry buzz to the room that night. The crew spent the first few games in fierce competition, no one winning anything but not really caring. After three games, Cas stepped away to call the numbers for the fourth game so Bill and Nancy could play, and everyone hunkered down to get to business. Gabe insisted on helping Gram with the numbers so that Dean could focus on his cards and Charlie took a break from playing and was doing something on her phone. Dean gave her a look and she explained that she was just taking some pictures and video for her social media accounts because “no one would believe I’m here.” Dean thought it was strange, but strange was kind of Charlie’s thing and he didn’t question it any further.

Cas launched into story time between numbers. “So most of you know that guy over there is mine,” he said as he pointed out Dean to the crowd. Dean blushed and gave a little wave. “What you probably don’t know is how we got together.” He called a few numbers before continuing. “Gabriel…” he pointed at the man, who waved jauntily, “harassed me about meeting someone. I wasn’t much of a dater. I wasn’t good at it.” He dismissed the murmurings of disbelief in the room and called a few more numbers. “So he finally wore me down, and I agreed to go to the bar he and Balthazar,” he pointed the blond out of the crowd, “own to mingle. Of course, I didn’t tell him how obstinate I would be about it.” The crowd chuckled and nodded knowingly. “So I did, and I saw the most incredibly attractive person I’d ever seen. He was way, way too good for me, and still is, but here we are,” he smiled and Dean blushed. He called more numbers. “The last day of our agreement I was so fed up with Gabriel’s interference with my non-existent love life that I told him what I really thought of dating – that it was superficial and expensive and worthless. I told him I’d rather take a date grocery shopping than a five-star restaurant and he looked at me like I’d gone insane. But that attractive person at the end of the bar agreed with me, and we set up this list of very boring, mundane things that people do and agreed to do them together. We called them un-dates.” He called out several more numbers. “It seemed like such a simple thing, really – get to know someone under the most ordinary of circumstances rather than something contrived. What it really was at first, I think, was probably my poor attempt at avoiding the pain of yet another failed relationship. As I said, I wasn’t very good at dating, because I just didn’t think I was destined to love and be loved in that way.” Several people murmured in sadness at this. “Don’t worry, everyone, I was still happy,” he smiled, “I just wasn’t very good at letting people in. But Dean saw the best in me, even at my worst, and reflected back a me that I wanted to be, a me that I only was with him. And damn it, despite my best attempts, he made me fall in love with him.” The crowd laughed and Dean watched Cas with affection.

“So I just wanted to say thank you, Dean. I love you. And this is the last un-date on the list, so I think we can officially date now.” The crowd laughed again and Dean nodded as Cas beamed at him.

Cas called three more numbers, and then the room erupted in shouts of “Bingo!” from the front row.

“Wow, five of you? That’s unusual,” Cas said into the microphone. “Will you hold them up for me, please?”

The players in the front row held up large cards. Dean looked on in confusion because one, no one held up their cards to confirm that they had won, and two, the cards were too large to be bingo cards. He noticed that they had writing on them. The room was silent as Dean read the large black words written on each card:

_Will you marry me, Dean?_

“Holy shit!” Dean yelled and the room erupted in laughter and cheers and applause. He looked at Cas, who stood on the stage smiling and looking beautiful and hopeful. Dean jumped out of his seat and ran up the stairs to Cas, nearly knocking him over when he threw himself at him. They held each other tightly as Dean clung onto Cas’ blue button-down shirt and whispered “Yes, yes, yes” in his ear.

After celebrating their engagement noisily and enthusiastically together that night and the next morning, they lay in bed and talked as the sun streamed into the bedroom.

“So what do you want to do for the wedding?” Cas asked as he turned to his fiancé.

“Hmm,” Dean replied as he traced Cas’ face with his fingers, the face he now knew he would see for the rest of his life. “How about cold pizza at a strip club? Or fried dough and corn dogs at a carnival? We could get married on some rickety Ferris wheel.”

“Hmm,” Cas pretended to consider the outlandish suggestions. “Germ-infested locations, questionable food, and at one a risk of death. Those do seem like very un-wedding kinds of things.”

“Exactly. If we can get married under those circumstances, our marriage could definitely withstand anything.” He winked and gazed fondly at his husband-to-be.

“I’d marry you under any circumstances, Dean…”

“Sap.”

“…but how about getting married in the backyard? I’d love to marry you in the gardens you created at the home we share.”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through Cas’ bedhead. “I’d love that, Cas.”

“We could have steak. Or burgers.”

“And your potato salad.”

“And something vegetarian.” Dean rolled his eyes. “And we could set up spaces for people to play yard games and video games and do pottery and dance.”

“That sounds awesome, babe.”

“With pie instead of wedding cake.”

Dean rolled on top of him. “God, I love you,” he sighed and kissed Cas through his laughter.

“Hey Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still know that drag queen? I’d really love to have some apple pie at the wedding.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a fun one to write. Feel free to leave feedback!


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